TIIK    A1UUVAI,    OF    MK.    l'I'71'KKS 


MR.     PETERS 


B  Hovel 


RICCARDO  STEPHENS,  M.B.,  C.M. 

WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY   E.  M.  ASHE 


NEW    YORK 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 

1897 


Copyright,  1897,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 

All  r,9/Ui  rntrted. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

PROLOGUE          1 

I.    MRS.    JIMPS'    PAYING    GUEST              ......  14 

II.    Mil.    PETKRS    PRESENTS    A    LETTER    OF    INTRODUCTION    .             .  20 

III.  MR.    PETERS    DECLARES    HIS    ERRAND     .....  25 

IV.  LUCIUS    PROPOSES    A    QUIET    EVENING    .....  34 
V.    INTRODUCES    SOPHIA    AMELIE    RIVERS    .....  37 

VI.    A    LITTLE    DINNER             ........  46 

VII.    MISS    RIVERS    RECEIVES    A    VISIT    ......  53 

VIII.    MR.    PETERS    IS    PHILANTHROPIC    ......  61 

IX.    LUCIUS    LOOKS    INTO    THINGS            ......  69 

X.    A    PROFESSIONAL    CONSULTATION                .....  73 

XI.    INTRODUCING    AN    OLD    ACQUAINTANCE               ....  82 

XII.    MR.    PETERS    OFFENDS    A    LADY     .  .  .  .  .86 

XIII.  A    MEETING    OF    MINOR    POETS         ......  93 

XIV.  LUCIUS    IS    DIPLOMATIC             .......  106 

XV.    STRICTLY    ON    BUSINESS  .  .  .  .  .  .  .114 

xvi.  'MELIA  HAS  PROSPECTS       .......  123 

XVII.    THE    JUST    JUDGE             ........  130 

XVIII.    A    BICYCLE    LESSON          ........  139 

XIX.    A    FOND    PARENT                ........  14.S 

XX.    TOM    DUNBAR  :    POET    AND    STRATEGIST              .             .                           .  157 

xxi.  PATIENCE!            .........  164 

XXII.    MR.    RIVERS    ATTEMPTS    SOME    TRICKS  171 


2228415 


iv  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIII.  HALF-CONFIDENCES •  178 

XXIV.  A    SUPERIOR    PERSON            .......  186 

xxv.  'MELIA  RECEIVES  VISITORS      ......  193 

XXVI.  CONCERNING    VARIOUS    TOASTS               .  200 

XXVII.  PIPES    AND    PATIENCE          .......  206 

xxvui.  THIEF!    ..........  210 

xxix.  SEEING  PAPA!          ........  215 

XXX.  FATHER    AND    SON      .......              .  223 

XXXI.  A    OITTRANCE     .........  230 

xxxn.  'MELIA  HAS  A  NEW  CUSTOMER         .....  237 

XXXIII.  AI>    AVI8ANDUM            ........  241 

XXXIV.  MINISTERING    TO    A    MINI)    DISEASED               ....  247 
XXXV.  LABOR    IN    VAIN           ........  256 

XXXVI.  MR.  PETERS    MAKES    A    PROMISE           .....  260 

XXXVII.  VOX,    ET    PRvtTEREA    NIHIL  !......  267 

XXXVIII.  AFTER-EFFECTS            ........  275 

XXXIX.  MR.   PETERS    MAKES    MORE    MOVES    THAN    ONE   .             .             .  279 

XL.  THE    TROUBLES    OF    MADGE    MURRAY    AND    MRS.  JIMPS           .  293 

Xl.I.  CANDIDUM    SORACTE             .......  300 

XLII.  FOR    LOVE.'         .........  310 

XLIII.  CHRISTMAS    PRESENTS          .......  315 

XLIV.  UNDER    EXAMINATION 323 

XLV.  DUDDINGSTON     LOCH             .......  327 

XLVI.  CALLED    BACK                ........  334 

XLVII.  NEW    YEAR    AT    THE    TRON             ......  337 

\1.\  III.  QUEM    DEUS    VULT    PERDERE       ......  344 

XL1X.  GOOD-BY              .             .             .              .             .             .             .             .              .  352 

L.  CONCERNING    A    LITTLE    ACCOUNT         ...                           .  360 


CONTENTS  v 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

LI.  A  DREAM  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES         .....  366 

LII.  A  WILD  GOOSE  CHASE          .......  372 

LIII.   MR.  PETERS  WINS  AND  LOSES        ......  376 

LIV.  A  FATHER'S  FAREWELL         .         .          .....  383 

LV.  NELL  KEEPS  THE  SHOP         .......  392 

LVI.  A  SONG,  A  JOURNEY,  AND  A  VOYAGE  .....  397 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


THE    ARRIVAL   OF   MR.    PETERS .       .       .       Frontispiece. 

"'i  SHA'N'T  SHAKE  HANDS'" Facing  page    no 

"HIS  CLERKS  FOUND  PETERS  AT  HIS  SIDE  TRYING 

TO  REVIVE  HIM "  274 

"THE    MAN    IN   THE    CHAIR    WAS   SILENT   FOR   A 

MOMENT  "  "  402 


MR.  PETERS 


PROLOGUE 

THE  rapidly  rising  town  of  Bonville,  IT.  S.  A.,  was  about 
to  prove  its  hatred  of  law-breakers  by  taking  the  law  into  its 
own  hands.  It  was  also  prepared  to  mark  its  recognition  of 
the  sacred  laws  of  hospitality  by  giving  a  stranger  and  a 
foreigner  a  handsome  swinging.  In  spite  of  the  late  hour 
and  the  darkness,  the  citizens  of  Bonville  had  forsaken 
whiskey-saloons  and  quiet  card-parties,  feeling  that  whiskey 
and  euchre  were  always  with  them,  but  a  horse-thief,  once 
hanged,  could  not  be  relied  upon  for  further  entertainment. 

He  had  been  opportunely  met  by  the  Sheriff,  caught  red- 
handed,  so  to  speak,  riding  one  of  the  two  stolen  horses  and 
leading  the  other.  The  Sheriff  had  tried  to  get  his  prisoner 
quietly  away  to  the  nearest  jail,  Bonville  having  none.  But 
they  were  Bonville  horses  that  had  been  stolen,  and  when 
the  citizens  of  Bonville  heard  of  the  Sheriff's  intention,  a 
sufficient  number  of  them  crossed  his  path,  some  six  miles 
out,  and,  by  unanswerable  argument,  persuaded  that  stout 
and  conscientious  little  man  that  Bonville  could  and  would 
attend  to  her  own  affairs.  The  Sheriff  now  watched  the 
progress  of  these  affairs,  rueful  and  carefully  guarded,  spit 
ting  now  and  then  in  contemptuous  disgust  as  he  saw  how 
things  went.  They  went  badly  for  the  prisoner.  He  had 


2  MR.    PETERS 

been  found  in  the  hands  of  the  Sheriff,  who  could  not  deny, 
though  he  would  not  own,  that  he  had  acted  because  he 
knew  the  stolen  horses. 

The  judge,  a  lean,  long  man,  sitting  in  a  buggy,  with  a 
rifle  across  his  knees,  pointed  out  to  the  jury,  who  clustered 
in  a  wagon  that  had  been  unhorsed  and  deprived  of  its  tilt, 
that  this  was  not  contradicted,  and,  what  was  still  more  im 
portant,  that  the  prisoner  could  give  no  satisfactory  ex 
planation  in  spite  of  the  help  given  to  him  by  their  able  and 
eloquent  fellow-townsman,  Mr.  Joshua  Buncombe.  True, 
the  prisoner,  a  tall,  long-bearded  Swiss  from  one  of  the 
Italian  Cantons,  could  speak  only  his  own  language  and  a 
little  French,  but  Mr.  Buncombe  translated  for  him  and  to 
him  with  a  rapidity,  a  feverish  fluency,  which  testified  both 
to  his  powers  and  to  his  eager  and  anxious  sympathy. 

"  Whar  did  he  git  them  hosses?"  asked  the  judge,  and 
the  prisoner's  answer,  which  was  a  long  one,  was  evidently 
unsatisfactory  to  his  friendly  interpreter  and  advocate. 

"  Speak  up!  "  a  juryman  told  him.  "  Say  it  as  he  says  it, 
and  don't  stop  to  patch  up,"  and  this  being  evidently  the 
popular  feeling,  Mr.  Buncombe  spoke. 

"  Gentlemen,  he  says  that  he  found  them.  On  my  honor, 
gentlemen,  I  believe  him." 

A  roar  of  laughter  greeted  this  profession  of  faith. 

"Does  anyone  know  the  man?"  asked  the  judge. 

No  one  knew  him.  He  was  thirty  miles  away  and  head 
ing  for  the  next  county  when  the  Sheriff,  coming  home 
from  another  errand,  had  met  him.  Not  a  bar  loafer  or 
farmer  recognized  him.  The  man  was  clearly  a  marauder. 

"  Where  does  he  come  from?  " 

Again  question,  translation  answer  and  translation,  the 
translation  always,  owing  to  Mr.  Buncombe's  linguistic 
ability,  much  more  concise  than  the  prisoner's  explanation. 

"  Sweet  Springs." 

Again  a  howl  went  up,  for  Bonville  lay  between  Sweet 


PROLOGUE  3 

Springs  and  the  spot  where  prisoner  and  booty  had  been 
found  together. 

"  Did  he  come  by  here?  " 

The  prisoner,  frowning  this  way  and  that  as  the  jeer  rip 
pled  round  him,  waited,  haggard,  for  the  question,  and  his 
answer  was  long. 

Again  his  protector  hesitated  and  stammered,  and  again 
he  was  urged  to  speak  out  quickly,  lest,  it  was  even  sug 
gested,  he  should  find  a  place  beside  his  client. 

With  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  and  an  action  as  if  washing 
his  hands  of  the  whole  thing,  the  answer  came. 

"  He  passed  through  last  night,  he  says,  and  saw  no  one." 

"  Nor  wanted  to,  I  guess,"  remarked  the  judge,  and  from 
that  moment  he  seemed  to  pay  less  attention  to  the  proceed 
ings,  letting  his  eye  rove  among  the  branches  of  the  tree 
under  which  the  prisoner  stood. 

The  case  was  clear  to  those  who  listened. 

There  were  the  two  horses  for  all  to  see;  a  gray  mare  and 
a  chestnut  gelding,  with  a  white  star  and  a  white  stocking, 
going  lame  when  met,  recognized  by  the  Sheriff,  now 
claimed  by  the  owner.  There  was  the  man  who  was  found 
trotting  them  away,  meaning  to  get  rid  of  them  as,  no  doubt, 
he  had  got  rid  of  the  other  six  which,  always  in  couples, 
had  gone  during  the  last  few  months. 

Mr.  Hector  Inch,  a  young  Scotsman  recently  arrived  from 
the  mother  country,  stating  the  evidence  for  the  prosecu 
tion,  and  anxious  to  show  his  neighborly  sympathy  for  the 
horses'  owner,  pressed  these  points  and  more  also. 

"Let  them  look,"  he  told  them,  with  a  long, accusing  fore 
finger  pointed  at  the  prisoner,  "  and  judge  if  that  was  the 
face  of  an  innocent  man  ! " 

The  jury  looked,  the  outside  audience  looked,  and  the 
prisoner,  shifting  his  restless  eyes  from  one  face  to  another, 
moved  uneasily  in  his  place.  While  the  citizens  of  Bon- 
ville  had  persuaded  the  Sheriff,  they  had  also  man-handled 


4  Mil.    PETERS 

the  prisoner,  and  he  showed  marks  of  it.  His  clothes, 
shabby  before,  were  tattered  now,  his  face  was  bruised,  his 
mouth  swollen  and  cut.  He  blinked  in  the  flare  of  the  pine- 
knots,  looking  very  like  a  wild  animal  dragged  from  the 
darkness  against  its  will,  and  a  surly  hum  running  through 
the  crowd  told  the  orator  that  his  audience  was  with  him. 
His  blood  stirred  at  the  sound,  as  it  had  been  used  to  stir 
when  he  gained  the  applause  of  the  Philomathic  Society  in 
his  gray  native  city. 

When  he  lashed  himself  into  further  denunciation,  it  was 
applause  he  spoke  for  and  thought  of,  not  a  man's  life.  He 
ended  with  trite  words  on  tempering  justice  with  mercy,  but 
if  there  had  been  any  hope  for  the  wondering,  uncompre 
hending  prisoner,  there  was  now  no  more. 

The  judge,  recalled  by  the  silence  from  his  meditation, 
brought  his  eyes  down  from  their  speculative  wanderings 
among  the  branches,  and  asked  if  the  prisoner  had  anything 
to  say.  His  interpreter  replied  hurriedly  that  the  prisoner 
begged  for  mercy;  whereat  the  stout  little  Sheriff  spat  once 
more  and  cursed  under  his  breath. 

The  judge,  grinning  sourly,  took  a  quid  from  a  neighbor, 
told  the  jury  to  consider  their  verdict,  and,  beckoning  to 
one  of  the  crowd,  whispered  in  his  ear  and  sent  him  away 
into  the  shadows  beyond  the  circle  of  light  made  by  the 
pine-knots. 

The  young  fellow  who  had  prosecuted  stood  with  a 
pleased  smile,  and  listened  to  the  rough  compliments  of 
those  by  him.  The  prisoner  glanced  about  uneasily,  and 
then,  turning,  asked  a  question  of  the  interpreter.  He, 
however,  had  moved  off,  and  was  now  haunting  the  shadows, 
flitting  from  place  to  place  as  men  noticed  him,  and  wiping 
his  pale,  sweating  face  with  his  coat-sleeve.  The  jury  did 
not  retire,  having  no  particular  place  to  retire  to,  nor  did 
they  take  long  to  consider. 

"  Guilty  "  was  the  verdict,  given  unanimously  in  less  than 


PROLOGUE  5 

five  minutes,  and  the  interpreter  mopped  his  face  again  in 
the  shadows  as  he  heard  it,  while  the  prisoner  stood  waiting 
and  wondering  what  would  come  next.  The  man  Inch 
who  had  spoken  against  him  stepped  a  little  forward,  with  a 
jaunty  air  of  self-satisfaction. 

"  That  being  the  case,  sir,  I  propose  that  a  little  of  your 
well-known  local  remedy  of  tar  and  feathers  will  be  given 
to  this  gentleman,  and  that  then  he  be  handed  over  to  the 
recognized  law." 

He  pointed,  laughing,  to  the  Sheriff,  but  the  judge, 
scarcely  moving,  caught  his  eye,  and  pointed  to  the  branch 
directly  over  the  prisoner's  head.  There  crouched  the  man 
to  whom  the  judge  had  spoken  while  the  jury  consulted,  and 
presently  a  rope  uncoiled  from  above  and  hung  swaying  and 
serpent-like  from  the  bough. 

"Not  that!     My  God,  not  that!" 

Inch's  voice  rang  out,  startled  and  entreating,  and  the 
prisoner,  turning  sharply  to  him,  followed  his  glance  and 
looked  upward. 

The  next  moment  the  prisoner  had  leapt  silently  at  the 
nearest  neighbor,  bearing  him  down  by  the  suddenness  and 
fury  of  his  attack,  and  was  struggling  to  get  the  man's  re 
volver  between  his  roped  hands.  The  attack  was  as  useless 
as  it  was  savage,  and  two  minutes  later  he  was  hauled  to  his 
feet  and  stood  breathless,  but  gasping  broken  words  in  his 
unknown  tongue,  while  a  revolver  pressed  hard  against  each 
ear. 

They  noosed  his  neck,  and  bringing  up  the  gray  mare 
which  he  had  ridden,  they  made  her  stand,  and  hauled  on 
the  rope  and  set  him  upon  her  back. 

"  Now  ye  can  pray,  sonny,  if  you  know  how,"  said  one. 
"  She's  onstiddy,  and  that's  straight  !"  remarked  the  mare's 
owner,  peering  up  at  him.  "  A  touch  of  the  heel  will  start 
her,  I  reckon.  So  long  !  "  and  he  strolled  slowly  away. 

The  light  now  flickered  around  the  tree  some  twenty 


6  MR.    PETERS 

yards  off.  The  moon  was  rising,  and  her  rays  fell  pale  on 
the  man's  face.  Sitting  erect,  he  could  just  feel  the  pres 
sure  of  the  rope  tightening  as  the  mare  pricked  up  her  ears 
and  stamped  uneasily,  whinnying  to  her  stable  companion. 
Then  the  man,  staring  at  the  moon  wide-eyed,  began  mut 
tering  to  himself,  and  presently  burst  into  a  low  vacant 
laugh . 

"  Darn  the  skunk,"  muttered  the  judge,  shifting  his  rifle; 
"  what's  the  fool  laughing  at  now  ?  If  he  don't  shift  that 
mare  for  himself,  I  guess  I  will,"  but  the  man  was  singing, 
in  his  own  tongue,  a  song  he  had  heard  years  ago  among  his 
own  people,  and  stared  at  the  moon  all  the  time  : — 

Oh!    cold  and  pale 
My  mistress  wanders 
O'er  hill  and  dale, 
And  nig-htl3r  ponders 
On  all  things  else  in  earth  and  sky 
But  me,  who  love  her  till  I  die. 
Oh!    pale  and  cold. 

There  was  a  flash  from  among  the  shadows,  and  the  crack 
of  a  revolver.  The  gray  mare,  startled  at  the  whistle  of  the 
bullet  as  it  flew  by  to  bury  itself  in  the  tree,  winced  and 
broke  away  at  a  gallop.  Her  burden,  jerked  from  the  sad 
dle,  twisted  convulsively  to  and  fro,  a  mark  for  more  bullets, 
as  the  revolvers  of  the  crowd  were  emptied.  Presently  it 
swung  with  pendulum-like  regularity,  and  at  last,  slowing 
down,  hung  motionless,  the  face,  twisted  into  the  semblance 
of  a  mocking  smile,  still  turned  to  the  quiet  moon. 

There  was  a  sigh,  which  might  be  of  content  at  work  well 
done,  and  the  crowd  was  scattering,  when  a  fresh  comer,  a 
small,  wiry,  gray-bearded  man,  cantered  up. 

"  Well,  sonnies,  what's  the  fun  now  ?  " 

"  Lynching,"  said  the  nearest  man,  briefly,  and  nodded 
toward  the  tree  and  its  dead  fruit. 

"  T  swar  !  "   ejaculated  the  little  man,  rising  in  his  stir- 


PROLOGUE  7 

rups  and  peering  across.  "  Who's  the  fool,  and  what's  he 
done  ?  " 

"  Furriner  ;  sneaked  Joe  Brown's  hosses  last  night." 

The  rider  dropped  back  into  his  saddle  and  trotted  gently 
through  the  moving  crowd  to  satisfy  his  curiosity,  but  in  a 
minute  he  was  back  again,  calling  to  the  man  who  had  an 
swered  him: 

"  Miners  !  where  are  ye  ?  " 

Miners  halted  in  his  track  with  a  grunt  and  waited. 

"  When  did  you  say  he  stole  'em  ?  " 

"  Last  night." 

The  little  gray  man  sat  and  thought  slowly,  with  his  hand 
on  the  other's  shoulder,  so  that  he  should  not  go.  At  last 
he  spoke  with  great  deliberation. 

"  I  was  with  that  chap  last  night  from,  lemme  see,  nine 
o'clock  till  sunrise  ;  yes,  I  was.  If  these  hosses  was  stole 
last  night,  why — you've  hung  the  wrong  man  !  " 

"  Shucks  !  "  retorted  the  other,  loudly,  so  loudly  that 
those  who  were  still  about  drew  near  and  listened. 

"  From  nine  till  sunrise,"  the  gray  man  repeated,  after 
refreshing  his  memory,  "  me  and  him  [and  he  jerked  his 
thumb  at  the  tree]  was  side  by  side." 

One  or  two,  cursing  loudly,  ran  toward  the  tree,  the  rest 
crushed  close  round  the  gray  man,  who  sat  still. 

"  'Taint  no  manner  of  use,"  he  said,  "  you're  sich  durned 
fine  shots,  some  o'  you  boys,  that  there's  two  bullets  through 
his  head,  anyway.  I've  seen  that,"  and  he  sat  thinking, 
while  a  babel  of  tongues  rose  all  about. 

"  I  didn't  know  any  of  you  gents  could  parley-vous,"  he 
said  at  last,  raising  his  voice  and  speaking  loudly.  "  I  can  a 
bit,  and  I  had  all  the  world's  trouble  to  make  him  out.  How 
did  you  work  it  ?  " 

"  Buncombe  spoke  for  him,"  chorused  a  dozen  voices. 
"  Did  it  fine,  too,"  said  one,  and  there  was  a  loud  "  hear  ! 
hear  !  "  to  that. 


8  MR.    PETERS 

"  Who  nabbed  him  ?  " 

"  Tom  Fraser;  leading  the  horses  he  was,  and  heading 
straight  away." 

u  What  in  thunder  did  Tom  bring  him  here  for  ?  "  de 
manded  the  astonished  catechiser.  There  was  a  silence, 
and  then "  He  was  fetched  !  " 

"  Fetched,  was  he  ?  "  The  man's  temper  was  rising,  and 
there  was  as  much  sarcasm  as  his  voice  could  throw  into  the 
question.  "  What  made  you  fetch  him  ?  " 

"  Buncombe  happened  to  say  in  Sadler's  bar  that  he'd 
seen  Fraser  heading  across  to  Terenceville,"  said  one  man 
sulkily,  after  a  pause;  "  and  some  of  the  boys  allowed  we 
could  see  to  these  things  ourselves,  and  went  out." 

"  Hope  you're  satisfied,"  snarled  the  gray  man.  "  Where's 
Buncombe  ?  I  want  to  see  him — badly."  But  Buncombe 
was  not  to  be  seen,  though  Bonville  searched  for  him  that 
night,  and  for  many  days  and  nights  after.  He  had  drawn 
a  freer  breath  as  soon  as  he  knew  further  interpreting  was 
not  necessary,  and  that  his  client  was  silent  for  ever.  He 
had  been  close  by  the  newcomer  when  that  inquisitive  indi 
vidual  had  started  his  questions,  near  him  when  he  came 
back  from  his  first  look  at  the  dead  man,  but  what  he  heard 
then  sent  him  into  the  shadows  again,  and  he  was  riding  for 
his  miserable  life  five  minutes  later,  thinking  every  moment 
that  he  heard  the  lynchers  upon  his  heels,  and  seeing  a  dead 
man  grin  and  swing  from  every  bough. 

The  next  day  saw  the  little  gray  man,  who  had  so  dis 
turbed  the  self-appointed  law-givers,  mount  again  and  ride, 
grim  and  meditative,  to  Sweet  Springs,  the  merest  germ  of 
another  township,  twelve  miles  away.  By  his  side,  unwill 
ing  and  remonstrant,  rode  one  of  the  last  night's  crowd,  who 
had,  however,  taken  no  active  part — a  lank,  foolish  youth 
who  disliked  his  errand  and  said  so. 

"  I  dunno  what  to  say,"  he  repeated  for  the  twentieth 
time,  as  they  slackened  pace  within  sight  of  a  small  newly 


PROLOGUE  9 

built  house.  The  little  gray  man  gave  him  practically  the 
answer  he  had  given  twenty  times  before. 

"  I  don't  keer,"  he  said,  staring  towards  the  house,  and 
shading  his  eyes  with  one  hand.  "  That's  the  good  of  you, 
Jerry.  I  want  someone  by  to  see  that  I  do  the  straight 
thing,  an'  to  hear  me  talk.  T'other  chaps  'd  chip  in  and 
tell  their  own  story,  an'  mebbe  their's  an'  mine'd  get  mixed. 
You  stand  by  an'  see  me  do  the  thing  square;  an'  if  you 
must  speak,  just  foller  my  lead.  I've  had  a  deal  to  do  with 
mares  in  my  time." 

They  were  now  drawing  up  at  the  door. 

The  small  man  threw  himself  out  of  the  saddle,  lifting 
down  a  canvas  bag  that  was  balanced  over  the  pommel,  and 
rapped  gently  on  the  door  with  his  whip-handle.  Then  he 
turned  his  head,  clearing  his  throat  in  a  dry  nervous  way, 
and  found  the  younger  man  still  mounted. 

"  What  the  hell  are  you  doin'?  "  he  blazed  out;  "  climb 
down  an'  be  ready." 

"  The  hosses  !  "  explained  the  young  man  feebly,  but  his 
senior  merely  snarled,  and  was  proceeding  in  highly  colored 
language  to  condemn  him  and  all  his  works  when  the  door 
opened. 

The  woman  who  stood  and  looked  at  them  from  one  to 
the  other,  was  tall,  handsome,  and  dark.  A  low,  broad  brow 
frowned  a  little  anxiously  over  dark,  melancholy  eyes.  Her 
aquiline  nose  and  strong,  rounded  chin  gave  a  masculine 
strength  to  the  face,  which  full,  red  lips  could  not  overcome. 
An  olive-skinned  youngster,  a  boy  perhaps  ten  years  old, 
peeped  under  her  arm.  After  a  moment  she  seemed  to 
recognize  the  older  man,  and,  drawing  back,  motioned  him 
to  come  in,  which  he  did  when  sure  that  the  other  was  going 
to  follow  him.  Seated  on  the  edge  of  a  chair  in  a  clean 
room,  that  showed  nothing  of  the  ornamental  except  a  big 
bunch  of  grasses  and  wild  flowers,  the  little  man  held  tight 
to  his  canvas  bag  and  cleared  his  throat  again  loudly,  one 


10  MR.    PETERS 

finger  thrust  between  neck  and  shirt-collar  as  if  he  felt  the 
need  of  more  room. 

"  You'll  know  our  talk,  1  reckon/'  he  said  at  last,  politely, 
"  leastways  so  I've  heard,  which  your  good  man  didn't." 

The  woman,  watching  him  from  where  she  stood  by  the 
little  rough,  unpolished  table,  nodded. 

"  My  husband  does  not  understand.     I  do." 

"'Course  he  doesn't  now/'  the  little  man  agreed  hur 
riedly.  "  That  is,  p'r'aps  he  does.  I'm  no  hand  at  these 
things.  'Twould  have  been  more  use  to  him  yesterday  may 
be,  /  think  anyway." 

"  What  came  yesterday  ?  "  asked  the  woman. 

"  He  took  ill  after  I  left  him." 

"  And ?  "  said  the  woman,  steadying  herself  against 

the  table. 

"  He  died,  ma'am,  among  strangers.  A  hard  thing  for 
you  to  hear — and  for  me  to  tell,  I  do  assure  you." 

The  suddenness  of  the  stroke  seemed  to  paralyze  sensa 
tion.  The  woman  gasped  and  looked  round  her  in  a  dazed 
silence,  while  the  man  hurried  on. 

"  He  had  a  good  deal  of  money  about  him,  as  no  doubt 
you'll  know,"  he  said,  pleased  at  his  own  brilliant  imagina 
tion,  for  the  dead  man  had  only  four  or  five  dollars.  "  An' 
when  1  turned  up,  as  I  did  before  he  was  buried,  an'  the 
folk  heard  the  lay  of  tilings,  they  sent  the  hat  round,  an'  me 
an'  him  (here  he  jerked  his  head  back  at  his  silent  and  star 
ing  junior)  guv  our  word  as  how  we'd  bring  the  best  respecs 
of  the  rest,  and  ask  you  to  'low  them  to  put  their  little  pile, 
as  they  did,  to  what  your  man  had  about  him." 

With  that  he  stepped  up  to  the  table  where  the  woman 
was,  and,  untying  the  string  and  taking  the  bag  by  the 
corners,  he  emptied  its  contents  carefully  out.  He  had 
spent  the  night  in  collecting  this  money  from  the  peniient 
men  of  Bonville,  and  in  conducting  a  hurried  but  effective 
funeral.  He  now  stepped  back  a  pace,  with  a  little  sigh  of 


PROLOGUE  11 

relief,  feeling  that,  whatever  might  come  of  this  matter- 
when  all  was  known,  his  share  in  it  was  creditably  ended. 

The  woman's  eyes  rested  dully  upon  the  pile  of  coins,  and 
gave  little  sign  of  feeling. 

"  My  man  !  "  she  said,  "  where  is  he  ?  " 

"  We  gave  him  a  big  funeral  this  mornin',"  said  the  man, 
"  miles,  miles  from  this,  in  the  sweetest  gully  you  ever  sot 
eyes  on,  but  it  is  a  terrible  place  to  get  at,  an'  if  I  was  you 
I'd  let  him  be,  and  get  away  to  my  friends.  If  I  can  help 
you  to  that,  Joe  Flinders  is  my  name,  and  Bonville  City 
will  find  me  any  day  next  week  that  you  send  a  message. 
I'll  come  over,  with  a  boy  or  two,  to  get  yer  things  together." 

He  looked  round  to  see  if  a  boy  or  two  would  be  enough 
for  the  business,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they 
would  not  be  overworked.  After  this  he  said  good-day  and 
went  out,  followed  by  the  other,  but  came  back  directly 
alone,  and  spoke  again. 

"  As  I  said,  missus,  he  had  a  tremendous  funeral,  I  give 
the  boys  credit  for  that,  an'  I'd  made  tracks,  I  tell  you;  but 
I  promised  Sheriff  Thomas  Fraser  to  say  that,  if  you  must 
see  a  man  who  was  by  him  when  he  died,  you  must  go  to 
him.  He  ain't  bent  on  seein'  ye,  but  he  holds  himself  in 
duty  bound  to  be  ready  to  answer  questions.  But  you  be  a 
good  soul,  an'  start  for  home." 

The  woman  sat  down  with  some  word  of  thanks,  staring 
quietly  at  the  floor.  The  man  turned,  and,  going  out, 
swung  himself  into  the  saddle  and  broke  at  once  into  a  gal 
lop,  watched  by  the  child  from  the  open  door. 

"Didn't  seem  much  put. about,"  said  the  younger  man 
when  they  rode  level  again,  but  the  other  shook  his  head 
dubiously. 

"  She  looks  I-talian,"  he  remarked,  "  which  her  man 
wasn't." 

He  pulled  up  at  another  door,  and,  hailing  the  woman  of 
the  house,  told  her  to  look  up  her  neighbor. 


12  MR.   PETERS 

"She's  struck  silly,"'  he  went  on,  as  they  broke  away  again, 
"but  she'll  come  to.  Then  she'll  feel, an'  may  be  others  will, 
if  she  can  make  'em.  She'll  want  to  know  more  of  this." 

That  proved  true.  A  day  or  two  later  the  woman  inter 
viewed  the  Sheriff,  and  heard  what  he  could  tell  her.  She 
was  still  quiet,  but  with  a  difference,  the  difference  between 
a  dead  fire  and  a  smouldering  fuse. 

"  I  can't  git  all  Bonville  City  hanged,  ma'am,  for  this 
business.  If  I  could  I  believe  I  would  at  times.  The  worst 
of  'em's  got  clean  away,  an'  that's  Buncombe.  I'd  string 
him  up  if  I  cud  ketch  him,  but  I'll  have  no  sicli  luck  !  " 

"  Buncombe?  "  said  the  woman,  carefully. 

"  Buncombe;  that's  the  man.  Seems  he  did  the  stealin' 
first,  an'  then  got  your  man  mixed  up  in  it,  though  how  he 
did  that  I  dunno.  Then,  as  he  did  the  parleyvooin'  at  what 
the  chaps  called  the  trial,  the  Lord  only  knows  what  lies  he 
told.  An'  though  you  may  say  in  a  way  that  your  man  was 
hanged,  yet,  in  a  way,  he  was  shot,  which  we  count  more 
decent  an'  respectable.  But  two  of  the  boys  swear  that  it 
was  Buncombe  who  fired  the  first  shot,  being  anxious  to  git 
it  done.'' 

By  his  mother's  side  stood  the  boy,  quietly  munching  an 
apple  which  the  Sheriff  had  found  for  him.  The  woman 
turned  and  spoke  earnestly  in  Italian,  while  the  boy  lis 
tened.  She  finished  with  the  word  "  Buncombe,"  and  he 
repeated  it,  at  first  incorrectly,  then  well,  while  the  Sheriff 
wondered  what  was  being  said. 

"  Then,  too,"  he  went  on,  when  the  woman  finished  with 
the  boy  and  turned  to  him  again,  "  there's  another  bit 
o'  comfort  I  can  give  ye,  and  I'll  allow,  missus,  that  you'll 
need  it  all.  Your  man  was  light-headed  an'  light-hearted 
in  consequence,  when  he  came  to  his  end.  He  died  singin', 
as  you  may  say,  bein'  clean  mad;  though  I've  no  head  for 
music  an'  can't  tell  you  the  tune,"  lie  added  regretfully. 

But  the  boy,  who  had  finished  his  apple  and  was  listening 


PROLOGUE  13 

with  his  big  black  eyes  fixed  upon  the  Sheriff's  weather- 
beaten  face,  began  to  hum  quietly  and  the  man  whipped 
round  upon  him. 

"That's  the  tune,  sonny;  you've  hit  it  fair  and  square! 
Good  Lord  ! "  he  added,  turning  to  the  woman  again,  "  I 
didn't  calc'late  on  the  kid's  understanding  all  this  !  " 

"  He  must  understand,"  the  woman  said  in  a  dull  way. 

"  He's  a  bright  chappie,'^  the  Sheriff  told  her,  admiringly; 
"  he'll  be  a  comfort  and  a  help  to  you  later  on,  missus." 

"  Yes,"  the  woman  answered,  "  I  shall  want  help,"  and 
she  rose  to  go  as  she  spoke. 

"  The  man  who  spoke  against  him  was  Inch/'  she  said. 

"  That  was  the  man,"  the  Sheriff  admitted.  "  But,  mind 
you,  that  chap  didn't  know  where  he  was  landing.  Tar  an' 
feathers  was  in  his  mind,  an'  nothin'  more.  We  can't  touch 
him  I  reckon,  missus  !  " 

But  the  woman  was  scarcely  listening.  She  had  turned 
to  the  boy  again.  "  Inch,"  she  said,  "  Inch,"  and  the  boy 
repeated  the  name  after  her.  Then  she  went  away,  a  strong, 
noticeable  figure,  with  the  silent,  quick-eyed  youngster  at 
her  side.  The  men  of  Bonville,  guessing  who  she  was  as 
she  left  the  Sheriff's  house  and  moved  down  the  street, 
mostly  disappeared  if  they  saw  her  soon  enough.  Where 
she  came  upon  them  unawares,  they  looked  skyward  or 
earthward,  and  remained  contemplative  until  she  had  gone 
by.  But  she  hardly  noticed  them.  As  she  went  she  con 
stantly  repeated  to  the  boy  those  two  names,  "  Buncombe  " 
and  "  Inch."  He  said  these  two  after  her,  and  a  third  that 
she  had  taught  him  to  link  with  them,  "  stai,"  or  "  wait." 

Folk  wondered  what  would  follow  upon  this  visit,  but  a 
few  days  later  the  woman  and  her  boy  again  disappeared, 
without  any  help  from  the  well-intentioned  Joe  Flinders. 
Soon,  as  the  population  shifted  and  changed,  these  things 
were  forgotten  by  Bonville  City,  or  only  vaguely  remem 
bered  when  a  stranger  made  inquiries  about  what  was 
known  as  the  Gallows  tree.  So  twenty-five  years  rolled  by. 


CHAPTER  I 

MRS.   JIMPS'   PAYING  GUEST 

MRS.  JIMPS  was  expecting  another  Paying  Guest,  and 
therefore,  as  usual,  she  was  nervous.  Her  House  of  Resi 
dence,  as  she  chose  to  call  her  house  in  a  familiar  Edinburgh 
street,  usually  held  four  Paying  Guests,  and  in  the  tourist 
season  had  been  known  to  take  eight,  because  Mrs.  Jimps 
didn't  like  to  refuse  old  friends,  and  knew  very  well  that 
they  wouldn't  be  comfortable  anywhere  else. 

No  chef  in  any  Princes  Street  hotel  could  send  in  better 
omelettes  and  such  like  trifles  than  could  fat  Maggie,  the 
cook.  Her  scones,  porridge,  haggis  and  cocky-leekie  were 
also  beyond  reproach,  and  when  Maggie  raised  up  her  shrill 
voice  against  "  our  Annie,"  the  quick,  pert  table-maid,  Mrs. 
Jimps,  if  possible,  shut  the  double  doors  and  gave  them  the 
kitchen  to  themselves  until  the  thunder-clouds  had  melted 
into  tears,  valuing  her  domestics  too  highly  for  needless 
interference. 

Mrs.  Jimps,  however,  though  prudent,  was  no  coward, 
and  when  her  tall,  black-robed  figure  swept  into  the  kitchen 
Maggie  usually  bestowed  her  wrath  upon  the  kitchen  fire,  or 
maybe  broke  a  plate,  but  abstained  from  words,  while  "  our 
Annie  "  would  suddenly  recollect  that  a  bedroom  needed 
"  sorting." 

Nevertheless,  to-night,  Mrs.  Jimps  was  nervous.  Ro 
mance  does  not  always  lose  its  charm,  as  young  people  sup 
pose,  at  forty,  and  she  was  barely  that.  Moreover,  under  a 
manner  of  great  dignity  and  some  reserve,  Mrs.  Jimps  hid 
an  impressionable  heart,  which  always  asserted  itself  on  the 
advent  of  a  male  stranger.  Her  new  Paying  Guest  was  a 

14 


MRS.   JIMPS'  PAYING  GUEST  15 

» 

Mr.  Peters,  coming  from  the  Continent,  and  recommended 
by  a  former  lodger  (I  apologize,  I  mean  Paying  Guest). 

Mr.  Peters  was  already  overdue.  Mrs.  Jimps,  in  a  stiff, 
white  widow's  cap,  had  fluttered  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
between  her  own  little  sitting-room  and  the  room  set  apart 
for  Mr.  Peters,  and  was  about  to  flutter  up  the  stair  again, 
when  the  house-door  bell  sounded  with  a  sudden  jerk.  Mr. 
Peters  had  arrived. 

First  there  was  the  banging  of  a  heavy  trunk  in  the  hall, 
followed  by  a  second. 

Mrs.  Jimps,  hesitating  between  dignity  and  curiosity, 
loitered  behind  her  door. 

Then  came  the  clink  of  silver  as  the  fare  was  paid,  and 
then  an  astonished  and  contemptuous  "  Eh,  what  mon," 
from  the  cabby. 

He  said  no  more.  Mr.  Peters  was,  audibly,  equal  to  the 
occasion.  A  deep  strong  voice  repeated  his  number  sonor 
ously,  the  owner  of  the  voice  evidently  making  a  note  of  it. 

"  Two  shillings  I  have  given  you,  my  best  fellow,"  the 
voice  went  on,  "  and  one  shilling  and  ninepence  is  your  fare. 
Here  is  my  card  also.  Shall  we  meet  to-morrow  at  your 
procurator-fiscal's  ?  " 

A  word  or  two  of  choice  blasphemy  from  the  man,  and 
the  voice  rose  again. 

"  Will  you  swear  before  this  young  lady,  my  friend  ? 
Outside  is  best,"  and  with  that  there  was  a  short  scuffle,  and 
the  door  banged  upon  the  astonished  Jehu. 

"  Bring  me  now  to  Mrs.  Jimps,"  and  "  our  Annie,"  her 
face  still  wreathed  with  the  smiles  called  up  by  Mr.  Peters' 
delicate  respect  for  her  gentility,  ushered  him  into  the  room. 

Mrs.  Jimps  saw  bowing  before  her  a  man  upon  whom  she 
would  have  looked  twice  anywhere. 

He  was  tall  and  swarthy,  dark-eyed  and  clean  shaven. 
His  age  was  really  only  thirty-five,  but  his  large,  well-shaped 
features  were  rather  fat  and  had  an  air  of  immovable  and 


16  MR.    PETERS 

sphinx-like  calm  that  seemed  the  mark  of  an  older  man. 
As  he  bent  over  Mrs.  Jimps'  hand  now,  his  face  was  unalter 
ably  solemn.  Later,  when  Mrs.  Jimps  began  to  watch,  she 
found  that  Mr.  Peters  laughed  often — the  laugh  of  an  easy 
going,  big,  strong  man — but  she  never  saw  him  smile. 
When  he  spoke  he  watched  her  intently,  and  his  big  smooth 
voice  filled  the  room  and  was  easily  heard  by  the  attentive 
Annie  outside. 

"  So  this,"  he  said,  "  is  Mrs.  Jimps  !  " 

Mrs.  Jimps  bowed,  feeling,  as  she  acknowledged  to  herself 
afterwards,  in  a  bit  of  a  flutter  under  those  unwinking  black 
eyes. 

"  Now  I  am  aware,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  that  friend  Ber 
gen  is  a  man  of  taste." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  murmured  Mrs.  Jimps.  "  I  don't 
follow  you." 

"  Friend  Bergen  pictured  to  me  my  hostess,  madam.  I 
said, ( It  is  too  much  ! '  Now  I  say, '  It  is  not  enough.' '' 

"  Really  these  foreign  gentlemen  have  a  way  with  them ! " 
So  Mrs.  Jimps  thought,  and  her  manner  softened  to  an  ex 
tent  that  surprised  herself. 

"  We  are  not  accustomed  to  such  compliments  here,  Mr. 
Peters." 

"  Ah,  excuse  a  foreigner,  madam,"  and  he  turned. 

In  the  hall  there  was  much  thumping  and  bumping.  As 
Mr.  Peters  threw  the  door  open,  Annie  was  revealed  outside, 
red-cheeked  and  breathless,  but  tugging  manfully  at  his  box 
which  she  had  scarcely  got  half-way  to  his  room. 

"  So,  you  cannot  manage  that  !  See  "—and  he  picked 
up  the  box;  then,  seeing  its  fellow,  picked  that  up  too,  and 
marched  contentedly  up  the  stair,  while  Annie  meekly  fol 
lowed,  wondering  whether  her  "  young  man,"  a  corporal  of 
dragoons,  could  do  the  like  so  easily,  and  very  much  doubted 
it. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Jimp?  stood  in  her  own  little  room,  and 


MRS.    JIMPS'  PAYING  GUEST  17 

composed  her  face  to  the  dignified  expression  it  usually 
wore.  She  looked  at  the  mirror  over  the  mantel-piece,  and 
wondered  what  Friend  Bergen  had  said  of  her.  Presently 
she  began  to  wonder,  too,  whether  everything  was  comfort 
able  upstairs,  and  whether  she  should  go  up  and  ask  for  her 
self.  This  was  quite  unprecedented.  Mrs.  Jimps  had 
great  faith  in  the  power  of  appearances,  and  studied  them 
carefully,  not  believing,  as  she  put  it,  in  making  herself  too 
cheap.  But  here  was  a  gentleman  who  knew  how  to  behave, 
and  who  must  be  shown  that  manners  were  not  lacking  in 
Edinburgh,  so  she  made  a  sudden  and  noiseless  appearance 
at  the  door  of  Mr.  Peters'  sitting-room,  to  the  intense  sur 
prise  of  "  our  Annie." 

When  that  young  person  was  startled  in  the  presence 
of  a  male,  or  thought  that  she  ought  to  be,  she  invariably 
shrieked.  It  showed  that  her  organization  was  just  as  sensi 
tive  as  that  of  a  real  lady  who  never  put  her  hand  to  any 
thing  heavier  than  a  novel.  So  she  shrieked  now,  and  Mr. 
Peters,  who  was  bending  over  one  of  his  trunks,  turned, 
though  with  deliberation,  not  being  easily  startled,  and 
faced  Mrs.  Jimps. 

"  I  only  came,"  said  Mrs.  Jimps,  wondering  at  the  sound 
of  her  own  voice,  "  to  see  if  everything  was  comfortable." 

Mr.  Peters,  bowing  solemnly,  waved  his  hand  to  compre 
hend  all. 

"  Everything,"  he  said  briefly,  and  stood  as  if  waiting  for 
her  to  speak  further,  or  to  go.  Mrs.  Jimps,  anxious,  as  she 
told  herself,  to  understand  her  Paying  Guest,  tried  to  decide 
which  he  wanted,  and  could  not.  The  black  eyes  were 
steady  and  unwinking  and  expressionless,  the  big  figure 
simply  quiet. 

"  You  will  want  some  supper,"  she  suggested,  but  Mr. 
Peters  shook  his  head  energetically. 

"Some  coffee,"  he  told  her,  "  and  a  great  smoke  presently. 
That  is  nil." 


18  MR.    PETERS 

kt  1  will  make  the  coffee  at  once  myself,"  said  Mrs.  Jimps, 
at  which  Mr.  Peters  laughed  loudly  and  without  restraint, 
throwing  back  his  head,  with  wide  open  mouth,  showing  a 
regular  and  strong  set  of  teeth. 

"  There  is  no  one  in  all  Edinburgh  shall  make  my  coffee," 
he  announced.  "  Would  I  poison  myself  ?  No  !  The  fire 
here  shall  be  lit,  and  the  water,  fresh  and  cold,  look  you, 
shall  be  brought,  and  I  will  make  my  own  coffee  now  and  al 
ways." 

The  idea  of  having  his  coffee  made  for  him  seemed 
hugely  amusing.  The  man  went  off  into  laughter  again, 
until,  through  sheer  infection,  Annie  began  to  choke 
and  to  giggle  ;  and  Mrs.  Jimps,  her  cheeks  gradually 
flushing  to  flame,  threw  her  such  a  look  that  she  retreated 
hastily. 

Mrs.  Jimps  stood  biting  her  lip,  obviously  put  out,  and 
Mr.  Peters  must  have  noticed  it,  for  he  stopped  laughing 
and  spoke  again. 

"  You  shall  make  me  your  porridge  and  your  haggis,  and 
I  will  presently  try  your  whiskey,"  he  promised,  "  but  your 
coffee,  No  ! " 

With  that  Mrs.  Jimps,  not  knowing  what  to  say,  had  to  be 
content.  She  went  down,  and,  easing  her  mind  consider 
ably  to  Annie  and  Maggie  in  the  kitchen,  sent  up  water  and 
ground  coffee. 

This  provoked  another  explosion  from  above,  and  the 
coffee  came  back.  Presently  there  stole  through  the  house 
the  aroma  of  roasting  berries,  then  the  distant  sound  of  a 
coffee-mill.  After  that  there  was  peace  in  Mr.  Peters'  part 
of  the  house  until,  just  as  Mrs.  Jimps  was  making  her 
nightly  round,  candle  in  hand,  with  Annie  in  attendance, 
there  came  a  crash  and  the  clatter  of  broken  glass  far  down 
in  the  street  below.  To  Mrs.  Jimps'  thumps  at  his  door, 
and  her  agonized  entreaties  to  be  told  what  had  happened, 
her  Paying  Guest  made  answer  at  last.  He  opened  the  door 


MRS.   JIMPS'  PAYING  GUEST  19 

wide  and  appeared  in  a  dressing-gown,  and  apparently  little 
else,  with  a  fresh-lit  cigarette  between  his  lips. 

"  How  you  did  frighten  us,  Mr.  Peters  !  What  has  hap 
pened  ?  " 

Annie  gasped  incoherently  in  the  back-ground  while  Mrs. 
Jimps  put  this  reasonable  question,  and  Mr.  Peters  sur 
veyed  them  curiously. 

"  Your  so  damnable  windows,"  he  said,  "  will  not  open 
above.  I  must  have  air,  and  I  have  therefore  broken  two. 
That  is  all.  Good  sleep  to  you,"  and  with  that  he  bowed 
and  shut  the  door  in  their  faces  before  Mrs.  Jimps  had  re 
covered  from  the  combined  effect  of  his  costume  and  his 
comminatory  adjective.  Later,  she  found  that,  in  what  she 
carefully  explained  to  the  two  servants  was  his  foreign  way, 
he  used  such  words  more  often  than  her  Paying  Guests 
usually  did.  It  was  with  him  no  sign  of  anger  or  any  other 
feeling.  He  merely  made  his  conversation  picturesque 
therewith,  when  he  thought  the  words  expressed  hi§  mean 
ing  best.  In  the  future,  one  supposes,  they  may  be  left  to 
the  time-honored  imagination  of  our  dear  readers. 

After  this  episode  Mrs.  Jimps'  household  was  quiet,  and, 
let  us  hope,  slept. 


CHAPTER  II 

MB.    PETERS  PKESENTS  A  LETTER  OF   INTRODUCTION 

IF  you  were  to  do  as  Mr.  Peters  did  on  the  morning  after 
his  arrival  in  Edinburgh,  and  take  a  car  from  the  General 
Post  Office  down  Leith  Walk,  you  would  find  your  surround 
ings  very  quickly,  indeed  immediately,  changed.  From  Ed 
inburgh,  aristocratic,  professional,  and  academic,  you  are 
moving  towards  her  money-making  mercantile  sister,  Leith. 
If  Edinburgh  is  wedded  to  wisdom  (as  some  of  her  inhabi 
tants  fondly  suppose),  and  if  Leith  has  married  money  (as 
she  is  popularly  declared  to  have  done),  it  is  natural  that 
you  should  see  differences,  and  natural,  perhaps,  that  their 
close  relationship  should  emphasize  the  occasionally  ex 
changed  sneer.  As  you  roll  away  down  the  hill,  you  see  at 
once  that  Leith  means  business,  and  sticks  to  it,  in  business 
like  offices  and  in  great  warehouses,  with  whiffs  of  the  salt 
sea  to  keep  her  wide  awake,  and  weather-beaten  sea-captains 
and  strange,  foreign,  and  seafaring  men  to  keep  her  in  touch 
with  other  lands.  Perhaps  these  things,  and  the  battered 
storm-wrecked  ships  that  come  panting  into  harbor,  like 
spent  swimmers,  serve  to  keep  some  men  soft-hearted  in 
spite  of  bargaining,  and  with  something  of  the  child's  won 
dering  appreciation  of  the  wonderful  world  that  many  of  us 
rather  yawn  over  at  middle  age.  Let  us  leave  Mr.  Peters, 
impassive  and  imperturbable,  but  noticing  most  things  from 
the  top  of  his  tram-car,  and  make  our  way  before  him  to  the 
Leith  office  of  Mr.  Moriarty,  Swedish  Consul,  and  a  keen 
man  of  business,  but  with  something  of  those  less  business 
like  qualities  we  have  hinted  at  above. 

Work  just  now  is  slack  with  Mr.  Moriarty,  and  he  is  en- 


A  LETTER   OF   INTRODUCTION  21 

gaged  in  what,  for  him,  combines  business  with  pleasure. 
Watch  him  now,  as  with  a  pencil  viciously  nipped  between 
his  teeth,  he  rolls  his  eye  ceiling-ward,  following  a  fly  as 
though  it  possessed  the  thing  that  he  longed  for.  The  fly, 
after  some  gyrations,  pops  out  at  the  open  window,  and  Mr. 
Moriarty  says  "  Darnee  !  "  not  unkindly,  but  with  a  pensive 
melancholy,  having  thereby  lost  the  thread  of  his  ideas. 

He  looks  ruefully  at  the  sheet  of  paper  before  him,  and 
turns  over  some  leaves  of  the  dictionary  at  his  elbow.  The 
fringe  of  stiff,  sturdy  hair  that  stands  on  end,  circling  a 
bullet  head  and  bald  pate,  bristles  more  than  ever  with  the 
agonies  of  composition.  What  this  elderly  and  highly 
respected  merchant  is  at,  we  must  find  out  some  other  time, 
for  a  stranger's  voice  is  heard  in  the  outer  office,  and  Mr. 
Moriarty  listens.  "  The  young  blagyard  !  "  he  mutters,  as 
the  youngest  clerk,  announcing  him  as  disengaged,  can  be 
heard  bringing  the  stranger  in,  and  dictionary  and  paper 
disappear  in  the  nearest  drawer  as  Mr.  Peters  is  announced. 

He  came  in  with  his  usual  air  of  polite  solemnity,  and, 
bowing  in  silence,  presented  his  card  and  a  letter  together. 

Mr.  Moriarty,  looking  at  him  over  the  top  of  his  glasses, 
waved  his  hand  towards  a  chair,  and  opened  the  letter. 

It  was  a  formal  note,  introducing  the  bearer,  Giuseppe 
Peters,  "  referred  to  in  my  former  letter  of  the  16th  Aug 
ust,"  and  signed  Olaf  Bergen. 

Mr.  Moriarty,  whose  face  was  fast  losing  the  fierce  ex 
pression  with  which  he  had  greeted  his  imprudent  clerk, 
opened  a  letter-clip,  and  took  a  letter  in  the  same  writing 
from  it. 

"  Hm-m,"  he  read,  "  '  Consignment  of  pine  ' — ISTo,  no, 
Chat's  not  it,"  and  then  he  found  the  passage  he  wanted. 

"  '  I  also  consign  to  your  kindness,  my  good  Moriarty,  a 
what-you-call  second-cousin  of  mine,  Giuseppe  Peters,  of 
late  visiting  these  parts  from  America,  who  tells  me  that  he 
has  family  affairs  to  settle  in  your  city.  Do  what  you  can 


22  MR    PETERS 

for  him  on  my  part,  my  good  Moriarty,  and  let  him  try  that 
very  particular  whiskey.  You  will  find  that  he  has  the 
head  of  a  man.'  Th'  chap  hasn't  forgotten  that  whiskey 
yet,"  chuckled  Mr.  Moriarty,  as  delighted  as  if  he  had  never 
read  the  passage  before,  and,  rising  from  his  chair,  beamed 
upon  the  attentive  Peters. 

"  You're  welcome  to  Leith,  and  to  all  that  I  can  do  for 
you  in  it,  Mr.  Peters.  What  can  I  do  for  you  now  ?  "  He 
held  out  his  hand  and  shook  the  other  man's  heartily 
enough,  and  the  latter,  rising  from  his  chair  with  another 
grave  bow,  gave  him  such  a  grip  in  exchange  that  Mr.  Mori 
arty  surveyed  his  own  fingers  with  some  amazement,  almost 
siirprised  to  find  them  in  their  place.  "  Man  !  ye've  the 
divil's  own  fist,"  he  remarked.  "  If  your  head's  as  strong 

as  your  hand,  why ,"  and  he  broke  off  as  if  words  failed 

him,  and  sat  down  again.  "  I  wonder  how  I  can  best  serve 
ye,"  he  went  on  meditatively,  and  looked  at  Mr.  Peters,  his 
head  a  little  on  one  side,  like  a  terrier,  and  waited  for  a 
reply. 

"  Bergen  told  me,"  returned  Peters  slowly,  his  voice 
booming  through  the  office  like  strong  wind  down  a  big 
chimney,  "  that  the  name  of  Moriarty  would  bring  me  re 
spect  and  attention  at  all  times  in  this  place." 

"  Did  he  now  ?  "  asked  the  other,  frankly  delighted. 
''That's  good  of  him,  sir,  though  maybe  saying  a  bit  too 
much.  Still,  he  knows  me  in  office  hours  and  out  of  'em. 
If  Bergen  says  that,  why,  maybe  there's  some  truth  in  it 
among  them  that  know  me,"  and  he  nodded,  while  Peters 
went  on. 

"  If  you  would  do  me  the  goodness  to  be  my  banker  ?  " 
he  said. 

"  With  all  the  world's  pleasure,  for  as  much  as  you  like, 
and  as  long  as  you  please,  if  so  be  as  the  Bank  of  Scotland 
isn't  good  enough  for  you,"  returned  Moriarty,  opening  his 
honest  eyes  widely. 


A   LETTER  OF   INTRODUCTION  23 

So  the  big  man  slowly  and  carefully  unbuckled  a  belt 
from  about  his  waist,  and,  taking  packets  of  notes  there 
from,  he  counted  out  five  hundred  pounds,  and  put  back  the 
rest.  "  There  is  something  more,"  he  said,  as  the  other  be 
gan  to  write  a  receipt,  and,  turning  to  the  chair,  lifted  a 
black  bag  that  lay  beside  it.  He  opened  that,  and  took  a 
canvas  bag  from  it.  This  was  old  and  dirty,  with  a  letter  or 
two  and  a  number  on  it— J.F.  1000.  "  That  is  all,"  he 
said,  and  Mr.  Moriarty  added  to  his  memorandum,  "  also  a 
canvas  bag,  tied  and  sealed,  marked  J.F.  1000,  contents  un 
known,"  and  locked  them  up,  then  and  there,  in  his  safe. 

"  You'll  dine  with  me  on  Saturday  ?  "  he  asked,  hunting 
for  a  card.  "  Pot-luck,  at  seven,  mind — and  no  swallow 
tails." 

Mr.  Peters,  looking  somewhat  puzzled,  had  swallow-tails 
explained  to  him.  "  Never  wore  'em  in  the  States  ? " 
queried  Moriarty  to  himself,  and  then,  begging  Peters  to 
look  in  any  time  before  Saturday  when  he  happened  to  be 
passing  or  to  be  in  want  of  any  help  in  his  family  affairs,  he 
showed  him  out,  risking  his  fingers  in  another  warm  hand 
shake.  His  conscience  plagued  him  sorely  as  he  turned 
back  into  the  office.  He  was  a  temperate  man  in  spite  of 
any  idea  Bergen's  letter  may  have  given  to  the  contrary,  and 
the  thought  of  spirits  in  the  morning  wras  abhorrent  to  him. 
But  a  foreigner,  from  the  States,  too  !  It  was  most  inhos 
pitable  not  to  have  offered  it  at  anyrate,  though  he  wanted 
badly  to  get  back  to  his  desk. 

"  Mackenzie,"  he  said  to  the  youngest  clerk,  who  had 
been  put  by  his  seniors  to  sit  opposite  the  door  because  there 
was  a  draught  there  when  it  opened.  "  Mackenzie  !  Kim 
out,  there's  a  good  fellow,  and,  if  you  can  see  that  gentle 
man,  say  that  I'll  be  obliged  if  he'll  step  back  for  a  minute." 

Mackenzie  tumbled  off  his  stool,  and  rushed  out  hatless, 
to  return  in  half  a  minute. 

"  He's  not  far,"  he  explained.  "  I'll  just  take  my  bat— 


24  MR.   PETERS 

'"  Tut,  tut,"  interrupted  his  master.  "  Let  be  !  He'll  be 
calling  again  in  a  day  or  two.  Kemember,  you,  sir,  that  if 
any  gentleman  calls  to  see  me,  you  don't  know  whether  I'm 
engaged  or  not  until  you've  asked." 

He  plunged  back  into  the  inner  room,  shut  the  door,  and 
pulled  out  writing  pad  and  paper.  His  visitor  had  uncon 
sciously  suggested  the  word  that  he  wanted,  and  Mr.  Mori- 
arty  longed  to  set  it  down. 

Meanwhile  Giuseppe  Peters  had  made  for  the  waterside, 
and  was  strolling  among  the  shipping.  Cranes  swung  great 
sacks  of  grain  and  flour  and  meal  over  his  head,  and  puffing 
locomotives  threatened  to  run  him  down  without  his  seem 
ing  to  notice  them.  He  strolled  serenely  on,  and  fell  into  a 
brown  study  when  he  reached  open  water  at  a  pier-head. 
There  he  sat  down,  and  looked  across  the  Forth — which  for 
once  happened  to  be  sparkling  in  the  sun — without  seeing 
very  much.  The  steamers  grunted  and  puffed  past  him,  the 
gulls,  attracted  by  scraps  tossed  from  some  cook's  galley, 
fought  in  the  water  at  his  feet,  and  screamed  harshly  over 
head.  Morning  became  afternoon,  and  afternoon  wore  on 
until  the  shadows  lengthened,  and  still  he  sat  idly.  Some 
times  he  muttered  a  word  or  two  between  his  teeth;  once  he 
put  up  his  hand  to  his  throat,  and,  pulling  out  a  gold  coin 
that  hung  about  his  neck,  stared  at  'it  and  laughed  a  little. 
Perhaps  he  began  to  feel  hungry,  perhaps  it  was  the  clocks 
of  Leith  striking  five  that  roused  him  at  last.  He  looked  at 
his  watch  and  rose. 

"  Five,"  he  said,  "  and  I've  had  nothing  to  eat  but  my 
breakfast  !  The  dinner  of  Mrs.  Jimps  will  be  the  worse  for 
my  appetite."  And  that  evening  Mrs.  Jimps  watched  him, 
marvelling,  and  wondered  whether  he  ate  like  that  always, 
and  whether  such  a  Paying  Guest  would  pay  after  all. 


CHAPTER  III 

MR.  PETERS  DECLARES  HIS  ERRAND 

IT  was  a  quarter  to  seven  on  Saturday  evening,  and  the 
household  of  Timothy  Lucius  Moriarty  was  as  busy  as  he 
could  make  it.  You  would  think,  as  the  exasperated  cook 
remarked,  that  he  was  giving  a  "  bankit "  to  the  Lord  Pro 
vost  of  Edinburgh  and  all  the  Town  Council  instead  of  to 
one  man  from  Amerikey,  who  likely  didn't  know  grouse 
when  he  saw  them,  and  couldn't  tell  hare-soup  from  ox-tail. 
"  There's  nothing  comes  frae  thae  pairts  worth  eatin'  except 
Blue  Points,"  she  told  the  table-maid,  turning  her  red  face 
from  the  fire,  "  and  -  — ,  ther's  his  bell  once  more.  Tell 
um,  Jean,  that  if  it's  me  he's  wishing  to  see,  I'll  come,  but 
the  birds  '11  be  sinners,"  that  at  least  was  what  it  sounded 
like,  but  she  meant  cinders,  and  the  message  being  duly  de 
livered,  her  master  left  the  cook  in  peace. 

"  If  Miss  Nelly'd  make  haste  down  an'  pacify  um,"  she 
confided  to  the  hare-soup  as  she  peered  into  it,  "  things'd 
gang  a'  richt,"  and  Jean,  the  table-maid,  inclined  to  agree 
with  her. 

Nelly  Moriarty,  the  motherless  child  of  the  house,  was  in 
her  room  putting  a  finishing  touch  here  and  there,  and  try 
ing,  from  various  points  of  view  and  with  hand-glass  and 
mirror  tilted  at  various  angles,  to  decide  whether  her  hair 
was  as  it  should  be  at  the  back.  This  was  not  so  easy  as  it 
might  have  been  had  she  owned  less,  or  had  she  been  able  to 
take  it  off  for  re-arrangement,  but  she  was  satisfied  at  last. 

"  Dad'll  be  in  a  fine  fury  by  this  time,"  she  announced  to 
the  mirror.  "  Must  be  off,  or  he'll  get  as  hot  as  the  soup," 
and  down  she  went. 


26  MR.    PETERS 

Meanwhile,  her  father,  his  hair  as  much  on  end  as  when 
we  saw  him  last,  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  drawing-room, 
looking  at  his  watch  every  two  minutes.  Twice  he  put  his 
hand  on  the  bell  and  twice  he  took  it  away,  remembering 
cook's  prophecy  concerning  the  "  birds."  Over  his  own 
meals  he  was  as  meek  as  any  lamb,  but  when  a  guest  was 
concerned  his  hospitable  soul  knew  no  peace.  As  for  Nelly, 
who  ruled  the  house  with  smiles  and  a  rod  of  iron,  he  alter 
nated  between  forgetting  that  she  was  past  the  school-room 
and  making  her  responsible  for  everything  right  or  wrong. 
Whatever  he  might  say  or  pretend,  she  was  really  like  his 
heart's  blood  to  him,  though  he  often  vowed  her  the  plague 
of  his  life,  and  swore  that  she  would  bring  his  gray  hairs  in 
sorrow  to  the  grave.  From  all  which  you  w7ill  infer  that 
Lucius  Moriarty,  owing  to  his  Irish  blood  or  some  other 
cause  of  which  I  know  nothing,  was  a  somewhat  unreason 
able  and  unreasoning  man,  at  anyrate  where  his  daughter 
was  concerned,  but  that  he  had  his  likable  qualities. 

And  now  let  us  follow  Nelly  as  she  goes  into  the  drawing- 
room. 

When  she  opened  the  door  hor  father  was  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  watch  in  hand,  and  held  it  out  for  her  to 
see  the  time. 

"  Five  minutes  to  seven  !  "  he  said  solemnly.  "  It's  dress 
— dress  — 

"  Dressed  ! " 

Miss  Ellen  Moriarty  finished  the  sentence  for  him,  and 
rounded  it  with  a  smacking  kiss. 

"  There,  sir,"  she  announced,  "  though  you  don't  deserve 
it.  How  many  times  have  you  sent  down  for  poor  Carter?  " 

"  Only  twice,"  Lucius  declared.  "At  least,  the  next  time 
I  told  her  not  to  come." 

"  A  queer  thing  to  tell  her  !  "  commented  Nelly,  gravely, 
"  and  one  I  didn't  think  she'd  need  to  be  told  at  her  time  of 
life.  I  think  you  mean  three  times,  dad." 


MR.    PETERS   DECLARES  HIS  ERRAND  27 

"  What's  a  man  to  do,"  grumbled  Lucius,  "  if  the  girl  who 
should  see  to  such  things  spends  her  time  before  her  glass 
with  her  chignons  and : 

"  Chignons  !  "  interrupted  Nelly,  remorselessly,  "  I  may 
have  heard  of  them  in  the  nursery,  dad,  but  never  since. 
Why,  you're  awfully  out  of  date,  you  old  dear  !  " 

"  If  I  hadn't  given  an  eye  to  the  table,  what  would  one 
know  about  how  things  were  ?  "  demanded  Lucius,  gruffly. 

"  Just  as  much  as  one  does  now,  daddy,  seeing  that  every 
thing  was  done  before  I  went  up  to  dress." 

"  Then  I  had  to  see  Carter  and  make  sure  that  she  put 
more  pepper  into  the  soup.  She  always  forgets." 

"  And  I  do  hope  and  trust  she  has  forgotten  again,  father 
dear,  since  I  went  down  and  seasoned  it  myself."  She  was 
surveying  her  father  critically  all  the  time.  "  I  can't  make 
out  what's  wrong  with  you,"  she  said  at  last.  "  Why,  your 
hair's  all  on  end  !  Eun  away,  there's  a  dear,  and  give  it  a 
good  brush.  Off  you  go  !  The  bell  hasn't  rung  yet,"  and 
she  hustled  him  good-humoredly  out  of  the  room,  and  was 
sitting  the  very  picture  of  a  demure  and  somewhat  reserved 
young  lady  when  Mr.  Peters  was  ushered  in. 

He  was  in  swallow-tails,  in  spite  of  Lucius'  injunction, 
and  looked  well  in  them,  too,  or  so  Nelly  thought  as  she 
lifted  her  eyes  and  made  a  swift,  but  fairly  thorough  inspec 
tion,  as  was  her  habit  with  strangers. 

"  Big,"  she  thought,  "  and  strong,  and  what  strong,  white 
teeth  he's  got.  He's  not  shy  before  a  woman,  anyhow. 
He's  very  polite,  too.  I'm  not  sure  yet  -  — ,"  and  then 
dinner  was  announced,  and  Mr.  Peters  ceremoniously  of 
fered  his  arm,  while  Lucius  followed  on  behind,  thinking 
that,  after  all,  there  was  no  girl  like  his,  and  that  in  her  way 
of  walking  and  the  turn  of  her  head,  she  got  more  like  her 
sainted  mother  every  hour. 

The  dinner  went  on  quietly  and  pleasantly  in  the  com 
fortable  dining-room.  If  Nelly  made  a  despairing  little 


28  MR.    PETERS 

mouth  over  her  first  spoonful  of  doubly  seasoned  soup,  it 
was  only  Jean  who  saw  her,  and  the  other  two,  as  she  re 
ported  downstairs,  "  took  them  [soup  being  plural  here 
abouts]  as  if  they  could  ha'  ta'en  mair." 

Nelly  questioned  Peters  now  and  then  about  the  States 
and  the  places  he  had  visited,  while  Lucius,  satisfied  by  this 
time  that  his  guest  was  going  to  be  well  dined,  beamed  upon 
both,  and  sent  down  a  message  of  congratulation  to  the 
kitchen.  Peters  talked  well,  slowly,  and  with  now  and  then 
a  quaint  word  or  turn  of  sentence  that  showed  he  often 
thought  in  a  foreign  tongue,  but  he  seemed  to  know  what 
was  likely  to  interest  Xelly,  and  gave  her  picturesque  little 
sketches  of  life  here  and  there. 

"  He's  clever  too,"  she  thought,  while  she  watched  him, 
"  and  he's  attentive  and  entertaining,  but  — 

She  broke  off,  even  in  thinking,  because  she  didn't  know 
exactly  what  her  own  "  but  "  meant.  It  really  meant  that 
she  was  not  quite  sure  of  Mr.  Peters — how  to  ticket  him  in 
fact.  Women,  especially  young  ones,  like  to  classify  us,  the 
simpler  sex,  and  Mr.  Peters  did  not  lend  himself  to  any  such 
arrangement.  He  was  absolutely  polite,  to  her,  but  so  he 
was  to  her  father,  with  precisely  the  same  manner,  and  lis 
tened  to  the  one  as  attentively  as  to  the  other.  She  might 
as  well  be  a  man,  she  told  herself  with  mock  indignation. 
She  tried  such  perfectly  innocent  feminine  devices  as  she 
knew  to  draw  him  out  a  little,  but  Mr.  Peters  could  not  or 
would  not  be  moved.  So  Xelly  pretended  to  think  he  must 
be  stupid,  which  she  didn't  believe  for  a  moment,  and  was 
again  demure  and  retiring,  and  for  her  almost  dull,  until  she 
had  had  a  glass  of  wine,  and  half  an  apple  shared  with  her 
father.  Then  she  rose  from  dessert,  and,  bringing  cigars 
and  cigarettes,  laid  them  at  Lucius'  side,  and  went  to  the 
drawing-room — bowed  out  ceremoniously,  but  to  all  appear 
ance  without  regret,  by  Mr.  Peters. 

Arrived  at  the  drawing-room,  she  sat  down  at  the  piano 


MR.    PETERS  DECLARES  HIS  ERRAND  29 

and  practised  one  or  two  of  the  Irish  songs  that  her  father 
liked.  She  had  a  pretty  voice,  and  sang  with  taste,  but  with 
not  much  more — as  yet.  Then  she  took  up  a  novel  and  pres 
ently  threw  it  down,  and  some  fancy  work,  and  threw  that 
down,  thinking  that  if  Mr.  Peters  had  not  been  so  stupid 
and  dull  she  could  have  wished  the  men  would  leave  the 
dining-room.  Later  she  decided  that  her  dear  dad  at  any- 
rate  mustn't  be  neglected,  and  sent  down  to  ask  if  they 
would  have  coffee  there  or  upstairs.  Meanwhile,  the  men 
had  been  chatting,  while  Lucius  puffed  a  big  cigar,  and 
Peters  slowly  smoked  one  cigarette  after  another,  listening 
to  his  host  and  watching  the  wreaths  of  smoke  through  lazy, 
half-closed  eyes. 

"  You'll  be  staying  here  some  time?  "  asked  Lucius,  push 
ing  the  decanters  across,  when  Peters  had  closed  the  door 
behind  Nelly  and  was  back  in  his  seat. 

"  Some  time,  probably,"  he  answered,  looking  critically 
at  the  cigarette  he  had  just  lit.  It  was  a  fat  one,  with 
"  Dream  "  stamped  at  one  end. 

"  Does  that  suit  you  ?  "  asked  Lucius,  rising;  "  if  not,  I've 
another  lot  somewhere  handy.  I'm  no  judge  of  those  paper 
things  myself." 

But  Mr.  Peters  waved  his  hand  in  protestation.  "  The 
most  excellent,"  he  assured  Lucius.  "  What  did  I  do  ?  I 
thought,  for  the  moment,  of  my  business,  which  was  most 
rude." 

"  Thought  you  didn't  like  it,"  explained  Lucius,  return 
ing  to  his  seat.  "  Here's  to  your  business,  Mr.  Peters,  what 
ever  that  may  be,"  and  they  bowed  to  one  another  over  their 
glasses. 

"  You'll  find  these  parts  lively  enough  for  a  winter. 
Dance,  I  s'pose  ? — of  course  !  "  as  Peters  nodded,  "  and  no 
entanglements  ?  " 

His  guest's  eyebrows  went  up  a  trifle  as  he  looked  for  an 
explanation. 


30  MR.    PETERS 

"  No  lassie  weeping  her  eyes  out  for  ye  over  beyond  ?  " 
explained  Lucius,  and  Peters  laughed  loudly. 

"  I  have  made  no  one  weep — yet,"  he  announced. 

"  D'ye  know  any  Edinburgh  folk  ?  " 

"  By  name,  some.     I  shall  know  more  of  them  later  on.'' 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  assented  Lucius.  "  If  you've 
letters  or  anything  of  that  kind  for  'em,  of  course  they'll 
make  you  welcome  and  you'll  soon  know  more  of  'em.  Who 
did  you  say  they  were  ?  " 

Peters  opened  his  mouth  as  if  to  answer,  and  then  looked 
at  Lucius'  good-tempered  face,  and  shut  it  again,  trying  ap 
parently  to  think  of  something. 

"  I  have  forgotten  the  name,"  he  said  at  last;  "  your  Scots 
names  are  so  strange.  It  was  perhaps  Mac  Something  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Lucius,  chuckling  at  his  own  small  joke. 
"  There  are  one  or  two  Mac  Somethings  hereabouts.  But 
you'll  find  'em  later,  no  doubt." 

"  Oh  !  I  shall  find  them,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  with  an  air 
of  quiet  conviction  that  set  Lucius  off  chuckling  again. 

"  I'll  show  you  the  Macs  presently  in  the  directory,"  he 
promised  him.  "  Are  these  the  people  you  have  business 
with  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Peters. 

"  Good  biz.,  I  hope,"  said  Lucius.  "  Money  in  it,  I  hope, 
Mr.  Peters,  since  you've  come  so  far."  But  Mr.  Peters 
shook  his  head  and  said  he  thought  not. 

"  A  debt  to  pay;  that  is  all,"  he  told  Lucius. 

"  Ey,  ey  !  That's  a  different  matter,"  Lucius  sighed  re 
gretfully.  "  Still,  it's  a  great  pleasure,  sir,  to  be  able  to 
pay  one's  debts  !  " 

"  It  is  indeed,"  Mr.  Peters  agreed  solemnly,  "  and  I  have 
been  compelled  to  leave  this — (how  do  you  business  men  say 
— standing  ?) — far  too  long." 

"  Old  family  business  ?  "  asked  Lucius,  interested,  but 
not  wishing  to  put  unpleasant  questions. 


MR.    PETERS  DECLARES  HIS  ERRAND  31 

•  Mr.  Peters  nodded  again.  "  My  father  died  suddenly/' 
he  explained,  "  and  in  debt.  I  now  wish  to  settle  the  ac 
count." 

"  Very  right  and  proper  spirit,  sir,"  said  Lucius,  raising 
his  glass  and  nodding  his  warm  approval.  "  It  'd  do  honor 
to  any  merchant  here,  an'  if  it  was  my  affair,  Gad  !  I'd  be 
glad  to  meet  you  half-way.  When  you've  looked  over  your 
documents,  you  can  tell  me  the  name  if  you  like,  and  I'll  do 
anything  to  help  you  if  they've  business  with  me.  They'd 
likely  be  ready  to  let  you  off  something." 

"  Very  true  !  "  Mr.  Peters  considered  gravely,  and  seemed 
to  think  that  possible.  "  But  I  will  pay  them  in  full,"  he 
added. 

Just  then  the  maid  came  down  with  Nell's  message  and 
Lucius  repeated  it. 

"  What  d'ye  say  ?  Shall  we  go  up  now  and  have  our  cof 
fee  with  my  Nell,  as  she's  alone  ?  " 

Mr.  Peters  said  he  would  be  most  happy,  and  rose,  throw 
ing  away  his  half-finished  cigarette. 

"  She'll  give  us  a  song  if  you're  fond  of  music,  and,"  said 
Lucius,  chuckling,  "  Jeanie,  get  the  directory  from  the 
library,  there's  a  good  lassie,  and  bring  it  to  me  in  the  draw 
ing-room." 

So  they  went  upstairs  and  had  their  coffee  with  Nell. 

Jean  brought  the  directory,  and  Lucius,  with  great  satis 
faction,  turned  up  the  Mac's  and  the  M's.  They  agreed 
that  it  was  of  no  use  bothering  until  Peters  had  looked  over 
his  papers.  "  Tho',  anyway,"  said  Lucius,  dryly,  "  I'm 
thinking  that  if  you  were  to  put  in  to-morrow's  papers  that 
you'd  come  to  pay  a  debt,  and  wanted  your  creditor's  ad 
dress,  you'd  not  have  to  wait  long  !  " 

Then  Nelly  sang  to  them,  while  Mr.  Peters  sat  very  still, 
and  he  thanked  her  very  politely  at  the  end,  but  whether  he 
listened  to  her, or  thought  about  something  else  all  the  time, 
she  couldn't  tell.  After  that  he  said  good-night,  and  went 


3;>  MR.    PETERS 

away;  while  Lucius  shouted  after  him  from  the  door-step,  to- 
be  sure  and  speak  any  time  that  he,  Lucius  Moriarty,  could 
be  of  any  use. 

Lucius  went  hack  to  a  little  snuggery  of  his  own,  where 
he  usually  ended  the  evening  with  a  book  and  a  cigar,  for  he 
was  a  careful  and  critical  reader.  There  he  found  Nell 
waiting,  as  was  her  habit,  for  five  minutes'  gossip,  usually 
conducted  on  his  knee. 

"  Pleasant  chap,  Peters  ! "  he  suggested,  as  Nell  settled 
herself  down. 

"  M'yes,"  said  Nell,  and  Lucius,  who  always  either  hated 
or  loved  a  man,  and  cursed  or  blessed  him  with  fervor  ac 
cordingly,  demanded  what  she  found  wrong  with  him. 

"The  rudiments  o'  hospitality  aren't  in  you!  "  he  insisted. 
"  Here's  a  poor  fellow — a  stranger  an'  a  foreigner — comes 
on  an  honest  errand,  with  a  letter  from  a  man  we  both  know, 
and  who  thinks  nothing  too  good  for  you  when  he  comes 
this  way;  an'  yet,  of  this  stranger — his  relative — all  the  good 
you  can  say  is  *  M'yes,'  "  which  Lucius  miaulled  out  as  if  he 
were  a  tom-cat  on  the  tiles. 

"  The  man's  good-looking,  isn't  he  ?  "  he  went  on. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  Nell  allowed;  "though  I  don't  like  a  middle- 
aged  man  to  be  so  fat  about  the  face,"  she  added  critically. 
Peters  was  at  most  only  thirty-five,  but  to  Nell  that  seemed 
quite  middle-aged,  if  not  past  it. 

"  What's  the  objection  ?  "  demanded  Lucius.  "  Would 
you  have  us  all  like  Irving  in  the  Bells  ?  He's  a  powerful 
well-informed  man,  too." 

This,  we  may  say,  was  asserted  on  the  strength  of  a  mono 
logue  by  Lucius,  which  it  has  not  been  necessary  to  repeat, 
upon  some  hobbies  of  his,  during  which  monologue  Peters 
had  sat  silent,  but  apparently  appreciative. 

"  I  daresay,  dad,  I  don't  understand  him,  that's  all,  and 
so  I  don't  know  for  certain  if  T  like  him  or  not." 

"  Conceit,"  says  Lucius  dogmatically.    "  How  can  a  lassie 


MR.  PETERS  DECLARES  HIS  ERRAND         33 

like  you  understand  any  man  ?  Be  off  to  bed,  my  dear,  and 
leave  me  to  me  book.  The  man's  just  a  simple,  honest 
chap,  who  pays  his  way,  and  owes  no  man  anything  but 
what  he's  ready  to  fork  out.  Be  off  wid  ye." 


CHAPTER  IV 

LUCIUS  PROPOSES  A  QUIET  EVENING 

IT  was  early  in  September  when  Peters  presented  his  let 
ter  of  introduction  to  Lucius,  and  September  drifted  on 
without  his  showing  any  pressing  concern  about  his  busi 
ness,  so  far  at  least  as  Lucius  could  see. 

"  An  easy-going  chap,"  he  told  Nell  in  the  snuggery; 
"  don't  seem  to  know  if  he'll  settle  things  next  week  or  next 
month.  Now,  I  guess  my  correspondents  in  the  States 
aren't  like  that  much.  However,  what  d'  you  say  to  letting 
him  meet  some  folks  here?  Quietly,  y'  know,  and  no  fuss 
or  bother  for  you  ?  " 

One  of  Lucius'  theories  was  that,  by  guileful  and  steady 
practice,  with  gradual  increasing  of  her  responsibilities,  he 
was  training  his  girl  to  be  fit  to  rule  a  house.  A  child  like 
that,  he  thought  (when  do  we  cease  to  be  children  for  our 
parents  ?),  naturally  timid  of  responsibility,  must  be  led 
gently  through  the  mysteries  of  housekeeping,  and  must  not 
be  frightened  by  having  to  give  entertainments  on  anything 
but  the  most  modest  scale.  Unfortunately  for  his  theory, 
Lucius'  hospitable  wish  to  entertain  everyone  he  knew,  and 
a  good  many  he  didn't  know,  led  him  into  practices  which 
did  not  correspond;  at  which  he  would  stare  far  more  aghast 
than  Nell. 

"  Everybody's  away  still,"  he  said  to  comfort  her  further, 
"  so  you  can  do  it  quite  quietly  without  offending  'em." 

"  Very  well,  dear,"  answered  Nell  serenely.  "  If  they're 
all  away  I  don't  see  how  we  can  get  them  to  come,  but  what 
do  you  want  ?  Half  a  dozen  or  so  in  for  a  little  music  next 
week  ?  People  are  beginning  to  come  back,  I  can  tell  you." 

34 


LUCIUS   PROPOSES  A   QUIET  EVENING  35 

"  Ay,  half  a  dozen  or  so  in  for  a  little  music/'  agreed 
Lucius  cautiously.  "  And  maybe  one  or  two  to  come  early 
for  dinner.  Music's  cold  comfort  to  some  folk.  At  least 
(diplomatically)  I  know  they  enjoy  your  songs  more  as  they 
ought  to,  if  they've  seen  first  what  a  grand  housewife  y'are." 

Nelly  gave  his  ear  a  pull  for  this  attempt  at  diplomacy, 
and  Lucius,  thinking  of  another  powerful  reason,  went  on — 

"  The  table  looked  lop-sided  last  time  Peters  was  here," 
lie  remarked  casually.  "  I  saw  you  noticed  it,  my  dear,  and 
one  or  two  more  would  make  it  look  more  decent." 

"  One  would,  daddy.     Two  would  put  it  wrong  again." 

"  Best  make  it  three  or  five  then.  Seven's  a  good  num 
ber,  for  that  would  make  ten,"  Lucius  told  her.  "  But  you 
mustn't  think  of  more  than  that;  of  course,  for  afterwards 
ye'll  make  it  as  many  as  ye  please.  It's  as  easy  for  you  to 
please  fifty  with  a  song  as  fifteen,  and  sandwiches  and  a  cup 
of  coffee  are  no  expense,  thanks  be." 

"  Aren't  they  ?  "  asked  Nelly,  innocently.  "  I've  got  the 
bills  for  the  last  evening,  and  I'll  fetch  them,  dad.  Some 
how  I  thought  — 

"  Tut,  tut  !  lassie,  none  of  your  havers.  With  a  house 
keeper  like  you  I  can  afford  to  see  my  friends  now  and  then. 
It's  time  for  you  to  be  in  your  bed  too,  and  I'll  just  finish 
this  book." 

"  Dad  !  It's  my  novel,  and  you  told  me  only  last  week 
that  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  reading  it,  when  I  couldn't 
give  you  a  line  of  Goldsmith  or  Sheridan." 

"  Go  off  to  your  bed,  ye  besom  !  "  retorted  her  father. 
"  How  could  I  say  that  when  I  hadn't  read  it  ?  I  would  be 
most  unjust.  Here's  a  man  writes  a  book  about  Constanti 
nople  who's  never  been  in  it,  and  it's  most  extraordinary 
life-like." 

"  I  didn't  know  you'd  been  there  either,"  retorted  Nelly 
maliciously,  but  Lucius  refused  to  notice  this. 

"  The  life  and  the  learning  a  clever  man  will  put  into  a 


36  MR.    PETERS 

good  novel — good,  mind  ye,  none  of  your  trash — is  most 
surprisin'.  None  o'  your  slaughtering  and  cheap  love- 
making,  but  a  plain,  honest  story." 

"  There's  a  lot  of  killing  and  love-making  further  on," 
Nell  warned  him.  "  You'd  better  drop  it.  They  called  for 
the  book  to-day,  and  I  hunted  high  and  low  for  the  thing.'' 

"  If  you'd  looked  you'd  have  found  it  got  mixed  up  with 
some  papers  in  my  bureau,"  Lucius  told  her,  with  one  eye 
on  the  page. 

"  The  bureau  was  locked." 

"  Ay,  so  it  was.  D'ye  think  I  want  all  the  maids  routing 
round  ?  Be  off  now,  and  let  me  get  time  to  finish,  or  they'll 
call  for  nothing  again  to-morrow." 

So  Nelly  planted  a  kiss  on  the  back  of  her  father's  head, 
and  went  laughing  to  her  room,  and  before  Lucius  went  to 
bed  he  finished  the  book,  with  many  ejaculations  at  the 
extraordinary  knowledge  of  the  novelist. 


CHAPTER  V 

INTRODUCES  SOPHIA   AMELIE  RIVERS 

MEANWHILE  Mr.  Peters,  in  spite  of  his  obvious  want  of 
business-like  push  and  despatch,  was,  like  an  intelligent  for 
eigner,  keeping  his  eyes  open.  Under  the  smiles  of  Mrs. 
Jimps  he  lost  some  of  his  elaborate  gravity.  The  change 
did  not  show  itself  usually  in  any  frivolous  form  of  joke  or 
laughter,  but  in  the  frank  comments  he  made  upon  things 
in  general.  If  these  comments  had  been  made  with  any 
appearance  of  spite  or  anger,  they  might  sometimes  have 
fairly  been  called  brutal.  When  he  did  anything  which 
might,  by  a  stretch  of  imagination,  be  called  a  joke,  it  was 
certain  to  be  practical,  and  such  as  was  not  likely  to  be  for 
gotten.  One  night,  for  example,  when  he  sat  in  the  drawing- 
room,  with  the  other  partakers  of  Mrs.  Jimps'  hospitality, 
whom  I  need  not  describe,  since  they  were  birds  of  passage, 
there  came  sudden  shrieks  from  the  kitchen,  with  unmistak 
able  oaths  in  a  deeper  tone,  and  then  crept  in  a  faint  smell 
of  burning,  as  Mrs.  Jimps  opened  the  door  and  indignantly 
swept  out  to  investigate. 

The  others  wondered  to  one  another  what  could  be  the 
matter.  If  Mr.  Peters  wondered,  he  didn't  say  so. 

When  Mrs.  Jimps  came  back,  she  had  a  strange  and  har 
rowing  story  to  tell. 

This,  it  seemed,  was  the  night  upon  which  Annie,  by  per 
mission,  was  accustomed  to  receive  her  young  man,  who,  I 
believe,  has  already  been  spoken  of  as  a  corporal  of  dra 
goons. 

While  that  innocent  couple  sat  before  the  kitchen  fire 

37 


38  MR.   PETERS 

alone,  it  being  cook's  evening  out,  and  talking,  so  she  as 
sured  Mrs.  Jimps,  of  the  minister  they  had  heard  together 
only  the  week  before,  there  came  a  live  coal  out  of  the  fire 
and  struck  her  beloved  in  the  face,  "  and  if  you  will  believe 
me,"  Mrs.  Jimps  told  her  eagerly  interested  auditors  in  the 
drawing-room,  "  the  poor  young  man's  mustache  is  nearly 
all  gone,  and  his  face  is  quite  scorched,  while  the  smell  of 
that  burnt  mustache,  well — it  might  have  been  gunpowder, 
or  sulphur,  or  anything." 

"  Really  a  cinder  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Peters,  much  concerned. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Peters,  there  it  was  on  the  hearthstone,  as 
Annie  showed  me." 

"  Most  miraculous,"  he  told  her,  "  and  sulphuric  smells, 
you  have  said  ?  While  they  talked  of  their  minister  ?  It 
will  be  the  Devil,  do  you  not  think  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Jimps  cautiously,  "  in  these  parts,  al 
though  one  knows  very  well  that  there  are  Powers  of  Evil, 
still,  one  doesn't  look  for  — 

"  I  have  known  many  such  things,"  he  said,  gravely,  "  but 
the  Devil  has  made  one  of  his  silly  mistakes.  This  good 
fellow,  being  a  brave  dragoon,  will  have  laughed." 

"  He  didn't  while  I  was  there,"  Mrs.  Jimps  said.  "  His 
mustache,  you  know  !  " 

"  These  brave  boys  care  nothing  for  their  appearance," 
Mr.  Peters  assured  her.  "  He  will  have  been  vexed  that  you 
were  disturbed." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Mrs.  Jimps  doubtfully,  and  the  mat 
ter  dropped  for  the  time. 

When  Mr.  Peters  went  to  his  room,  he  rang  the  bell. 
There  was  no  answer  at  first,  but  he  was  always  very  patient, 
and  he  waited  patiently  now  until  cook  answered. 

"  You  !  "  lie  said.     "  Where  is  my  good  friend  Annie  ?  " 

"  She's  a  sair  held,  sir,"  the  cook  explained,  "and  she's 
now  away  to  her  bed." 

"  Our  poor  Annie  !  "     Mr.  Peters  was  most  sympathetic. 


INTRODUCES  SOPHIA  AMELIE  RIVERS  39 

"  But  I  have  excellent  remedies  for  sore  heads  (it  is  that 
you  said,  is  it  not  ?),  and  I  will  cure  it." 

So  presently,  Annie,  seeing  no  help  for  it,  made  her  ap 
pearance,  with  her  head  bundled  up  in  a  shawl,  at  which 
Mr.  Peters  laughed  immoderately.  "  I  have  a  message  for 
your  soldier,"  he  informed  her.  "  If  you  take  any  more  of 
my  best  cigars  for  the  pig,  there  will  be  gunpowder  enough 
and  plenty  in  the  next  to  make  him  so  that  you  shall  see  his 
face  no  more.  Now,  go  !  "  and  she  went. 

He  came  with  a  very  good  knowledge  of  English,  though 
he  used  a  foreign  idiom  now  and  then,  with  queer  turns  of 
sentences.  Now  he  enlarged  his  vocabulary  quickly,  being 
ready  to  talk,  at  table  or  in  the  street,  with  anyone  who  was 
conversationally  inclined,  and  he  constantly  asked  questions 
where  a  meaning  was  not  plain  to  him. 

"  My  good  Mrs.  Jimps,"  he  called  up  to  her  from  the  foot 
of  the  dinner-table  one  evening,  "  am  I  at  liberty  to  put 
to  you  one  little  question  ?  " 

"  Why,  certainly,  Mr.  Peters  !  "  Mrs.  Jimps  said  politely. 
There  were  ten  at  table  that  night,  and  Mr.  Peters,  being 
now  the  male  resident  of  longest  stay,  sat  facing  Mrs.  Jimps, 
and  wrestled  with  a  fowl  as  he  spoke. 

"  This  is  an  ancient  fowl,"  he  remarked  casually,  as  he 
disarticulated  a  leg,  and  then,  "  What  is  a  lodger,  madam  ?  " 

"  A  lodger,  er — lodges  in  a  lodging-house,  and  pays  for 
board  and  lodging,"  Mrs.  Jimps  told  him,  after  considera 
tion. 

"  So  ?  "  and  Mr.  Peters  disposed  of  the  other  leg. 

"  What  is  a  guest,  my  dear  Mrs.  Jimps  ?  " 

"  A  guest  is  a  friend  who  stays  in  your  house." 

"  But  a  Paying  Guest  ?  " 

"  A  friend  also,  I  hope,  Mr.  Peters,"  Mrs.  Jimps  said, 
drawing  herself  up  and  flushing  a  little.  Poor  woman,  she 
did  her  best  with  ber  Paying  Guests  and  her  House  of  Resi 
dence.  It  was,  after  all,  a  harmless  expression;  and  since 


40  MR.   PETERS 

it  somehow  made  her  feel  superior  to  the  ordinary  landlady, 
her  Paying  Guests  quite  possibly  profited  in  comfort,  if  not 
in  coin.  Mr.  Peters  asked  no  more,  but  openly  lamented 
the  difficulties  of  our  tongue. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  "  are  two  things  which  are  the  same 
thing.  '  Lodger  '  and  '  Paying  Guest,'  also  '  Lodging  '  and 
'  House  of  Residence,'  and  the  poor  foreigner  who  wishes  to 
learn  is  troubled  over  two,  until  he  finds  they  are  one.  It  is 
most  devilish  hard  !  " 

"  Mr.  Peters  !  " 

Mrs.  Jimps  had  told  him  before,  that  certain  words  were 
not  used  in  polite  society — at  anyrate  before  ladies;  and  this 
was  one  of  them. 

"  Pardon  !  "  he  entreated.  "  We  may  say  *  deuced,'  may 
we  not?  and  that  again  is  the  same  thing,  and  both  refer  to 
a  thing  in  which  I  do  not  believe." 

The  conversation  was  then  changed  by  some  charitable 
tourist,  but  poor  Mrs.  Jimps  noticed,  after  that,  that  when 
anything  in  the  House  of  Residence  happened  to  displease 
Mr.  Peters,  he  took  the  next  opportunity  of  alluding  to  his 
"  lodgings  "  and  to  himself  as  her  poor  lodger.  To  do  him 
justice,  he  was  not  readily  displeased,  and  often  seemed  so 
preoccupied  as  to  pass  over,  unnoticed,  little  discomforts 
that  occurred  with  the  coming  and  going  of  visitors,  and 
which  would  have  irritated  most  other  men. 

Every  day  he  strolled,  big,  placid,  and  dignified,  about 
the  city,  with  apparently  no  other  object  in  life  than  to 
quietly  enjoy  himself,  and  to  listen  in  innocent  silence  to 
any  lies  which  any  guide  chose  to  tell  him.  Sometimes  he 
took  a  cab,  and  once  imperturbably  allowed  a  cabman  to 
drive  him  from  the  Castle  to  Leith  by  way  of  the  Queen's 
Drive,  because  the  fellow  began  chatting  about  a  celebrated 
trial,  as  they  passed  near  the  Parliament  House,  and  went  on 
to  speak  of  the  judges  and  advocates  engaged.  Peters  rose 
from  the  seat  of  the  open  cab,  and  went  up  on  to  the  box, 


INTRODUCES  SOPHIA  AMELIE  RIVERS  41 

where  he  questioned  the  man  about  the  judges,  some  of 
whom,  at  auyrate,  he  knew  by  name  already. 

It  was  that  evening  on  his  return  that  he  made  the  ac 
quaintance  of  a  lady  whom  I  must  introduce,  namely,  Miss 
Sophia  Amelie  Rivers,  who  asked  her  friends  to  call  her 
Amelie,  and  was  therefore  known  as  Em'ly. 

Mr.  Peters  had  dined,  and  having  gone  out  for  an  evening 
stroll,  was  roaming  placidly  along  through  the  streets  under 
a  cloudy  sky,  when,  having  put  a  cigarette  between  his  lips, 
he  discovered  that  he  had  no  matches.  He  grunted,  and 
then,  seeing  that  there  was  a  tobacconist's  shop  opposite,  he 
crossed  the  road  and  went  in. 

There  was,  there  still  is,  nothing  striking  about  the  place 
to  distinguish  it  from  a  dozen  others.  It  stands  in  one  of 
the  lesser  streets  behind  Princes  Street,  and  is  just  a  small, 
well-kept  shop,  with  a  wooden,  genial-looking,  kilted  High 
lander  extending  his  mull  to  you  at  the  door,  and  with  a 
pigeon-hole  of  a  room  behind,  in  which  a  light  must  always 
be  kept  burning  if  one  is  to  see  anything  there,  since  there  is 
no  window,  and  not  much  light  comes  through  from  the 
street.  As  for  ventilation,  except  through  the  shop,  there 
is  none  but  the  chimney.  Of  course  Mr.  Peters  didn't 
know  all  this  at  once.  He  rapped  on  the  counter,  seeing  no 
one,  and  presently  the  curtain  which  separated  the  shop 
from  the  pigeon-hole  was  lifted,  and  a  frowsy-headed  dam 
sel  appeared. 

Her  hair  was  the  fashionable  color,  or  as  near  as  she  could 
get  it,  namely,  a  sort  of  straw  yellow.  Her  dress  was  brown 
velveteen,  rubbed  at  the  elbows,  and  very  balloon-like  at  the 
shoulders.  She  had  a  wide,  good-natured  mouth,  with  good 
teeth,  which  she  showed  often  by  a  broad  smile.  Her  com 
plexion  was  remarkable,  considering  the  atmosphere  in 
which  most  of  her  life  was  probably  spent,  and  one  felt  that 
to  match  it,  her  hair,  if  she  left  it  alone,  must  surely  be  red. 
She  had  a  dirty  novel  in  her  hand,  the  back  torn  away,  and 


42  MR.    PETERS 

she  kept  her  place  in  it  with  her  left  forefinger  while  she 
gave  Mr.  Peters  his  matches. 

"  Anything  else  ?  "  she  asked,  and  he  said  "  No,"  and 
turned  away,  hut  stopped  at  the  door.  A  few  big  drops  of 
rain  fell,  splashing  in  great  blotches  on  the  pavement;  peo 
ple  began  to  scatter  and  hurry  for  shelter,  and  Mr.  Peters 
turned  to  the  counter  again.  The  girl  was  watching  him 
from  the  back,  with  a  woman's  natural  admiration  for  broad 
shoulders,  and  smiled  again  when  he  said  he  would  smoke 
there  until  the  rain  stopped. 

"  Wy,  cert'nly,"  she  said,  and,  lighting  a  cigarette,  he 
rested  on  the  long,  leather-covered  seat  that  was  placed 
against  the  wall  opposite  the  counter. 

"  Keg'lar  Scotch  weather,  ain't  it  ?  "  she  said,  genially. 
"  'Ow  d'you  like  Edinburgh  ?  " 

"  I  think  your  city  most  superb,"  Mr,,  Peters  replied 
gravely. 

"  'Taint  mine,"  said  the  young  person,  with  a  somewhat 
disdainful  projection  of  the  chin.  "  I  don't  belong  properly 
to  these  parts." 

"  Indeed  ?  " 

Mr.  Peters,  having  nothing  else  to  occupy  him,  was  much 
interested,  or  seemed  so. 

"  What  part  of  this  country  has  the  honor  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  suspiciously.  "  B'lieve  he's  fooling," 
was  her  first  thought,  but  Mr.  Peters  was  already  lost  in 
contemplation  of  his  cigarette.  "  Just  his  forrin'  way," 
she  said  to  herself,  for  foreign  he  certainly  seemed. 

"  London's  my  'ome,"  she  told  him.  "  I'm  a  Cockney 
born  and  bred,  I  am." 

"  A  great  city  !  "  announced  Mr.  Peters  politely,  and 
lapsed  into  silence  again. 

The  rain  was  now  coming  down  like  a  water-spout,  the 
empty  streets  were  filled  with  the  hissing  of  it  on  the  flag 
stones  and  with  the  gradually  growing  gurgle  of  the  gutters. 


INTRODUCES   SOPHIA   AMELIE  RIVERS  43 

The  girl  looked  out  into  the  dusk  and  gave  a  little  sigh, 
because  she  wanted  to  get  back  to  her  novel,  where  the  hero 
ine  was  wavering  (though  only  through  innocence  and  for  a 
moment)  between  the  villain  with  a  coronet  and  the  poor 
but  extremely  handsome  and  honest  hero,  who  was  to  claim 
the  coronet  later. 

"  Can't  expect  the  poor  fellow  to  go  out  in  it,  I  s'pose," 
she  allowed,  generously,  to  herself.  "  Let's  see  who  he  is  !  " 
and  laying  her  book  open,  face  down,  on  the  shelf  under  the 
counter,  she  rested  both  elbows  on  some  cigar-boxes,  and 
resigned  herself  to  social  amenities. 

"  Were  d'you  come  from  ?  "  she  asked. 

Mr.  Peters  waved  his  cigarette  widely  and  vaguely.  "  A 
wanderer,"  he  explained. 

"A  sailor,  p'r'aps,"  she  suggested.    "A  sea-captain,  say  ?  " 

"  I  have  sailed,"  he  admitted,  and  let  the  question  of  ca 
pacity  go  by. 

Miss  Amelie  Rivers  grew  interested,  and  thought  over  the 
matter  a  little,  while  Mr.  Peters  smoked  on,  and  the  rain 
rustled  through  the  streets.  Now  and  then  the  faint  sound 
of  far-off  thunder  mixed  with  the  rattle  of  passing  cabs. 

"  Sailors  go  to  all  parts,"  Amelie  sagely  announced  at  last. 
"  Now,  I  wonder  if  you've  ever  been  to  the  States  ?  " 

Yes,  Mr.  Peters  had  been  to  the  States,  and  said  so. 

"  I've  had  friends  there,"  she  went  on,  at  which  Mr. 
Peters  laughed  rather  sarcastically. 

"  You  all  have  friends  there,"  he  told  her.  "  Now  you 
want  very  much  to  know  if  I  have  met  your  friends." 

Amelie  was  nettled  at  his  tone,  being  suspicious  of  sar 
casm. 

"I've  only  one  of  my  people  there  now,anyway,"  she  said, 
"  and  it  doesn't  matter  what  I  want  to  know,  and  I  think 
the  rain's  pretty  well  done." 

The  rain  wasn't  done,  and  anyone  could  tell  that  much, 
but  she  thought  a  broad  hint  to  go  was  excusable. 


44  MR.    PETERS 

Mr.  Peters,  however,  was  not  the  man  to  take  a  hint,  un 
less  it  suited  him,  and  he  was  only  amused. 

"  Would  you  have  me  drowned  ?  "  he  asked  pathetically. 
"  Who  is  your  friend,  and  where,  in  that  so  small  place  ?  " 

"  My  pa's  there,"  said  Amelie  sulkily,  "  or  was  when  I 
heard  of  him  last.  But  I  don't  want  to  trouble  you." 

"  How  could  I  be  so  ungrateful  ! "  protested  Mr.  Peters 
gallantly.  "  Tell  me  your  name.  Certainly  I  may  have 
met  him." 

He  was  so  accustomed  to  such  questions,  and  so  prepared 
to  say  he  had  never  met  the  man,  that  he  struck  a  match 
noisily  when  he  had  spoken,  and  lit  another  cigarette. 

"  My  name's  Sophia  Amelie  Rivers,"  Amelie  answered, 
waiting,  however,  until  he  was  quiet  again. 

"  That's  not  his  name,  though,"  she  said  presently.  She 
had  not  realized  that  her  question  involved  a  small  confes 
sion  on  her  part. 

"  Your  dear  father  is  not  called  Sophia  Amelie  ?  "  sug 
gested  Peters. 

"  ISTo,  nor  Rivers." 

"  How  is  that  ?  "  Mr.  Peters  asked,  scenting  another  mys 
tery  of  the  English  language. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  Amelie  admitted,  "  I  don't  like  our 
name.  It's  a  good  enough  name,  but  when  I  was  in  a  Lon 
don  establishment,  the  young  ladies  made  fun  of  it.  Some 
girls  are  such  fools,  you  know  !  "  and  Mr.  Peters  nodding 
sympathetically,  said  "  yes,"  and  begged  her  to  go  on. 

It  was  a  stupid  sort  of  thing  to  have  to  explain,  though. 
Amelie  was  glad  that  she  had  forgotten  to  light  the  gas  in 
the  shop,  for  her  cheeks  were  getting  a  little  hot. 

"  It's  something  to  be  able  to  blush  anyway,  you  silly  !  " 
she  told  herself.  "  You  know  plenty  who  can't  !  "  and  she 
went  on  defiantly.  "  So  I  just  changed  my  name  a  bit 
when  I  came  away.  I  says  to  myself,  '  I  shall  have  to 
change  it  some  day,  anyhow,  I  suppose '  ; "  and  here  she 


INTRODUCES  SOPHIA   AMfiLIE  RIVERS  45 

giggled  a  little,  while  Mr.  Peters  declared  that  she  must 
have  had  many  chances  already. 

"  While  you're  about  it,"  she  went  on,  "  it's  as  well  to 
have  a  pretty  one,  and  I  found  one  in  a  lovely  book.  So  I 
just  changed  Buncombe  into  Bivers.  What  d'you  think 
of  it?" 

What  Mr.  Peters  thought  of  it  she  couldn't  hear  at  the 
moment,  for  just  then  a  flash  of  lightning  that  nickered  into 
the  little  shop,  followed  at  once  by  a  thundering  peal,  made 
her  shriek. 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  she  ejaculated,  directly  the  thunder  had 
rolled,  muttering,  away.  "  I'll  light  the  gas  at  once,  and 
close  that  door.  Why,  it  made  you  look  awful  !  I  wouldn't 
have  another  flash  like  that  in  the  dark  for  anything.  I'd 
be  afraid  to  look  at  you."  She  bustled  round  and  lit  the  gas, 
but  did  not  close  the  door.  Mr.  Peters  stood  in  the  door 
way,  looking  out  upon  the  street. 

"  I  wonder,  now,  if  I  looked  as  queer  as  you  did  ?  "  she 
said,  but  got  no  answer. 

"  It  is  stopping,"  he  told  her  presently,  "  and  I  will  go." 

"  Wait  till  it's  finished,"  suggested  Amelie. 

"  It  is  late,"  returned  Peters,  and  stepped  into  the  street. 

"  P'r'aps  you'll  look  in  some  time  when  you're  passing," 
screamed  Amelie  after  him. 

"  I  will  certainly  come  back,"  he  shouted  over  his 
shoulder,  and  Amelie  picked  up  her  novel  again. 

"  Don't  know  that  I  want  to  see  him  either,"  she  re 
marked,  as  she  ran  her  finger  down  the  page.  "  He  doesn't 
seem  to  have  met  pa,  anyway,"  and  presently  she  was  lost  in 
the  sorrows  and  joys  of  her  heroine. 


CHAPTER   VI 

A    LITTLE    DINNER 

As  Nell  Moriarty  had  told  her  father,  people  were  begin 
ning  to  come  back  to  town,  and  settle  down  for  the  winter. 
She  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  friends  ready  to  come,  and 
Lucius'  limit  of  ten  for  dinner  was  quickly  reached.  Im 
agine  them  then  in  the  cosey,  old-fashioned  dining-room, 
which  we  know  already.  Nell  has  been  brought  down  by  an 
elderly  bachelor  friend  of  the  family,  Donald  Dee,  a  counsel 
at  the  Scottish  Bar,  who  was  at  school  with  Lucius,  and  who, 
being  of  a  sanguine  temperament,  is  quite  ready  to  flirt 
paternally  with  Lucius'  daughter.  His  legal  training  gives 
him  a  ready  tongue,  and  Nell  rather  enjoys  the  flutterings 
of  this  ancient  butterfly.  Also,  maybe,  although  she  would 
not  acknowledge  it  to  herself,  she  is  interested  to  see  how  far 
some  other  people  are  affected  by  these  philanderings. 

On  his  right  hand,  Lucius  has  a  widow  of  comfortable 
proportions  and  sufficient  income,  Mrs.  MacQuestra,  whose 
manoeuvres  are  watched  apprehensively  by  Nell.  For  it  is 
Nell's  secret  belief  that  her  father  is  the  innocent  quarry  of 
all  unattached  females,  and  doomed  to  a  melancholy  slavery, 
unless  she  be  for  ever  vigilant. 

Lucius  tortures  her  with  his  open  admiration  and  enjoy 
ment  of  the  widow's  lively  badinage,  while  the  widow  her 
self,  expanding  figuratively  in  the  warmth  of  his  smile,  looks 
to  Nell  horribly  and  deceitfully  young  and  traitorous. 

Mr.  Peters  is  quietly  studying  his  partner,  a  lady  of 
whom  we  shall  see  more.  She  is  a  Miss  Margaret  Murray, 
a  woman  of  perhaps  twenty-seven  or  twenty-eight,  who  pro 
fesses  to  have  a  great  admiration  for  Nell,  and  has  recently 

46 


A   LITTLE  DINNER  47 

cultivated  her  acquaintance.  Madge  Murray  states  that  she 
is  fond  of  truth  because  anything  else  is  so  much  trouble, 
and  that  no  one  believes  anyone  else  in  any  case.  I  think 
we  will  let  her  speak  for  herself,  and  one  never  has  to  wait 
very  long  for  that. 

On  the  other  side  of  Madge  sits  Tom  Dunbar,  student  of 
medicine  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  now  in  his  final 
year,  and  very  well  aware  that  he  ought  to  be  reading  in  his 
own  rooms  instead  of  dining  sumptuously  here.  But  what 
would  you  ?  Tom  doesn't  care  a  ha'penny  for  the  dinner,  at 
least  he  thinks  not,  being  just  now  "  a  bit  off  his  feed,"  as  he 
would  put  it  ;  he  also  certainly  doesn't  care  a  ha'penny  for 
the  lady  whom  he  has  brought  down,  and  who  privately 
fears  that  all  students,  and  especially  medical  students,  are 
in  a  bad  way. 

But  Tom  is  honestly  and  head  over  ears  in  love  with  Nell 
Moriarty,  and  since,  as  he  tells  himself  a  dozen  times  a  day, 
he's  nothing  to  her  and  never  will  be,  why  what's  the  good 
of  work  or  anything  else  ?  Nell,  of  course,  is  quite  uncon 
scious  of  his  feelings.  Young  ladies  always  are  in  such  cir 
cumstances,  I  know.  She  treats  him  in  a  sisterly  way  which 
is  horrible  and  delightful  torture  to  him,  and  Tom  listens 
far  more,  just  now,  to  her  chat  with  Mr.  Donald  Dee  than 
to  the  question  of  the  lady  by  his  side  as  to  how  he  spends 
Sundays.  It's  mean,  he  knows,  to  listen,  but  he  does  so, 
and  is  no  happier  ;  in  fact,  rather  the  reverse. 

The  other  man  of  the  party  accepts,  from  conscientious 
motives,  all  invitations  to  dine  out,  thinking  it  his  duty  to 
be  sociable,  but  being  on  principle  a  strict  vegetarian,  makes 
his  hosts  unhappy  by  refusing  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl,  and  in 
quiring  shyly  but  persistently  into  the  composition  of  all 
sauces  and  puddings.  On  this  particular  occasion  he  is  con 
fining  himself  to  bread  and  asparagus,  much  to  Lucius'  dis 
may. 

His  partner  is  a  not  very  brilliant,  though  tender-hearted 


48  MR.   PETERS 

dame,  who  enjoys  a  good  dinner,  but  feels  abashed  before 
such  asceticism.  She  apologizes  hurriedly  at  intervals,  and 
cannot  be  made  haippy. 

"  A  charming  little  gathering,  Miss  Nelly,"  says  Dee, 
"  and  I  am  the  most  fortunate  member  of  it." 

Poor  Tom  Dunbar  catches  this,  and  mutters,  "  I  should 
think  so,"  when  his  neighbor  asks  if  he  ever  works  on  Sun 
days. 

"  How  well  your  daughter  manages  everything  for  you," 
says  the  widow  to  Lucius.  "  You  cannot  expect  to  keep 
such  a  good  housekeeper  always,  Mr.  Moriarty." 

"  She's  young  yet,  ma'am,"  says  Lucius,  "  an'  has  a  lot  to 
learn.  Maybe,  when  she  settles  down,  there'll  be  a  corner 
for  an  old  man." 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Moriarty,  you  don't  expect  to  keep  her  so 
long  as  all  that,  surely  !  "  says  the  widow. 

"  Or  I'll  get  me  lady  friends  to  advise  me,"  adds  Lucius, 
and  the  widow,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  her  plate,  after  just 
the  least  little  fluttering  glance  at  him,  says  that  she  is  sure 
he  has  plenty  of  lady  friends  who  would  do  anything  they 
could. 

Madge  Murray,  who  had  noticed  the  plate  of  the  vege 
tarian  gentleman,  turned  presently  to  Peters. 

"  Don't  you  think  vegetarianism  a  fraud  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Peters,  gravely,  "  that  your  aspara 
gus  shouts  (or  shrieks,  is  it  ?)  when  he  is  cut." 

"  Doesn't  that  spoil  your  dinner  ?  " 

"  Why  should  it  ?  "  asked  Peters  philosophically,  helping 
himself  to  vegetables.  "  First,  I  don't  believe  it ;  second, 
if  it  is  true,  I  do  not  hear  it." 

Madge  surveyed  him  more  carefully  than  before  at  this 
frank  statement,  and  lost  a  trifle  of  the  supercilious  and 
llase  air  with  which  she  had  greeted  him  on  their  intro 
duction. 

"  I  don't  believe  you'd  care  if  you  did  hear  it,"  she  re- 


A  LITTLE  DINNER  49 

marked,  and  Mr.  Peters,  not  perhaps  much  interested  in  her 
beliefs,  shrugged  his  shoulders  a  little,  and  turned  to  hear 
the  explanations  of  the  lady  who  was  apologizing  for  her 
carnivorous  habits  and  expressing  her  ardent  desire  for  a 
strictly  vegetarian  diet. 

"  I  assure  you,"  she  told  her  neighbor,  contritely,  "  I 
should  love  it,  if  only  I  might  be  allowed.  But  my  doctor, 
a  most  charming  man,  who  understands  my  constitution 
thoroughly,  won't  hear  of  it.  '  It's  nourishment  that 
you  want,  and  nourishment  you  must  have,'  he  told  me 
only  yesterday.  He  says  my  brain  is  so  active,  you  know, 
that  my  nervous  system  needs  more  support  than  most 
people's." 

"  You  cannot  imagine  the  tranquillizing  effect,"  the  con 
scientious  man  told  her. 

"  Oh,  I  sleep  well  enough,"  she  insisted.  "  He  told  me  I 
must,  and  I  always  nod  a  little  after  dinner — when  I'm  alone 
and  at  home,  of  course,"  she  added  hurriedly,  and  the  con 
scientious  man  sighed. 

So  talk  went  on,  growing  more  lively  and  general  as  the 
champagne  went  round,  and  even  Tom  Dunbar  began  to 
feel  that  stars  could  be  looked  at,  aye,  even  climbed  for, 
though  one  might  not  expect  to  reach  them. 

"  P'r'aps  if  a  fellow  got  the  '  Ettles,'  or  even  did  a  first- 
class  pass,"  he  thought,  "  she  might  listen  to  him,"  and  at 
the  second  glass  of  champagne  he  began  to  make  great  plans 
for  steady  work.  Time  passes  quickly  when  one  is  building 
castles  in  the  air,  and  from  this  point  he  didn't  pay  much 
attention  to  the  dinner's  progress.  He  answered  vaguely 
when  spoken  to,  and  smiled  foolishly  when  his  neighbor  in 
formed  him  that  she  didn't  think  it  a  good  thing  for  young 
men  to  live  alone  in  lodgings.  Evidently  she  was  not  a  bad 
sort  after  all. 

"  It's  awfully  dull  at  times,"  he  told  her.  "  A  fellow  can't 
help  wanting  to  go  out  a  bit.  Of  course,"  he  added,  bash- 

4 


50  MR.    PETERS 

fully,  "  a  fellow  can't  even  think  about  settling  down  until 
he's  capped  and  properly  started." 

"  Of  course  not,"  the  lady  asserted,  heartily.  "  I  quite 
agree  with  you,  Mr.  Dunbar,  that  such  notions  are  criminal. 
I'm  glad  you  think  so.  So  many  people  talk  of  '  settling 
down,'  by  which  they  mean  marriage,  as  if  it  were  the  great 
object  of  life.  What  I  say  is,  look  at  me  !  " 

Tom  looked  hastily,  and  muttered  "  Yes  ?  " 

"  Has  marriage  been  my  object  in  life  ?  "  demanded  his 
neighbor,  severely,  and  answered  "  No  "  for  herself,  since 
Tom  took  so  long  to  think  it  over. 

"  Now,  especially  for  young  men  and  women,"  she  went 
on,  delighted  to  find  so  sympathetic  a  listener,  "  I  would 
suggest  such  surroundings  as  should  protect  them  from 
wrecking  their  lives  at  the  outset." 

Tom,  watching  Nelly,  who  at  that  moment  laughed  over 
something  extravagant  in  the  way  of  a  compliment  laid  at 
her  feet  by  the  insinuating  Dee,  muttered  incoherent  words 
that  might  mean  anything. 

"  For  you,  for  example,  I  would  provide  dwellings,  some 
what  on  the  collegiate  system,  with  respectable,  indeed  re 
fined,  matrons,  who  would  supervise  where  necessary,  and 
make  the  place  so  attractive  by  their  society  that  you  would 
no  longer  wish  to  go  outside  for  less  praiseworthy  pursuits 
and  less  improving  companions." 

"  Really  !  "  Tom  protested,  startled  at  being  taken  in 
charge  so  swiftly,  "  I " 

"  Of  course,  I  don't  mean  you,  Mr.  Dunbar.  You  and  I 
are,  I  am  glad  to  see,  practically  at  one  on  these  matters. 
1  mean  your  average  fellow-student,  whose  moral  back-bone 
is,  I  have  reason  to  fear,  less — what  do  you  call  it  ? — ossi 
fied.  Thank  you." 

Tom  was  conscientiously  trying  to  decide  how  far  he  was 
obliged  to  give  his  views  to  this  evangelist  when  Nelly  began 
to  smile  in  his  direction.  Thinking  that  she  was  going  to 


A  LITTLE  DINNER  51 

say  something  to  him,  he  forgot  all  else,  and  bent  forward 
only  to  find  that  she  was  trying  to  catch  the  widow's  eye 
and  make  the  signal  for  moving.  Dinner  was  actually  over  ! 
What  had  he  been  saying  and  doing,  not  to  have  known  it? 
Evidently  he  had  eaten  and  drunk,  for  there  was  a  half- 
finished  bunch  of  grapes  before  him  and  his  glass  was  empty. 
He  got  up  quickly,  and  was  in  time  to  open  the  door,  there 
by  earning  a  little  smile  and  a  nod  from  Nell  as  she  passed 
out.  Then  he  made  his  way  back  to  the  table,  thinking 
what  idiots  men  were  not  to  go  up  with  the  ladies,  and  won 
dering  how  soon  he  might  be  allowed  to  join  them,  if  he  be 
came  his  own  medical  adviser  for  the  moment,  and  declared 
himself  warned  not  to  smoke. 

The  other  men  came  up  towards  their  host's  end  of  the 
table  and  lit  their  cigarettes,  all,  that  is,  excepting  the  con 
scientious  man.  He  applied  himself  energetically  to  a  plate 
of  bananas. 

"  How  are  things  getting  on,  Peters  ?  " 

The  question  was  put  by  Lucius,  from  whom  Mr.  Peters 
was  farthest.  It  consequently  drew  everybody's  attention  to 
him,  and  Lucius  thought  an  explanation  needed.  He  intro 
duced  him  formally  to  the  rest,  and  particularly  to  the  Law, 
as  represented  by  Mr.  Dee. 

"  Here,  Donald,  here's  a  wonder  for  you.  A  man  from 
the  States  looking  for  his  father's  creditors." 

Mr.  Dee  bowed,  and  raised  his  glasses,  astonished. 

"  Gad,  sir  ! "  he  ejaculated,  with  a  genial  grimace,  "  if 
your  complaint  spread,  what  would  become  of  our  profes 
sion  ?  But  it's  not  catching,  I  warrant.  Our  clients  are 
more  likely  to  cross  the  water  before  than  after  their  cred 
itors." 

"  He  may  need  help  yet,"  suggested  Lucius,  but  the  legal 
gentleman  sighed  doubtfully. 

"  Not  from  the  Bar,"  he  told  them.  "  There  is  no  plead 
ing  needed  by  the  man  who  wants  to  pay.  Good  Lord  !  and 


52  MR.   PETERS 

what  credit  is  to  be  gained  by  counsel  in  such  a  case  ?  "  He 
sighed  again,  with  a  cheerful  and  whimsical  expression,  as 
though  sure  that  he  was  surveying  a  "  freak,"  and  that  his 
bread,  with  thick  butter,  was  secured. 

"  Glad  to  take  you  over  Parliament  House  any  time  after 
the  Courts  sit,"  he  told  Mr.  Peters,  and  Peters  replied  that 
he  would  take  advantage  of  the  offer,  and  fell  into  a  conver 
sation  that  drifted  on  until  Lucius  suggested  the  drawing- 
room. 

There  Mr.  Dee  oscillated  between  Nelly  and  Miss  Murray, 
while  Tom  Dunbar  loitered  around  and  tried  not  to  look 
sulky.  The  widow  openly  beckoned  Lucius  to  her  side,  and 
by  so  doing  agitated  Nell  far  too  much  for  that  anxious 
young  hostess  to  bestow  any  attention  upon  poor  Tom.  The 
widow,  in  a  review  of  recent  Celtic  literature,  had  just  read 
a  good  deal  about  Celtic  Gloom,  and  was  anxious  to  hear 
from  Lucius  whether  he  was  much  troubled  by  it,  and  to  let 
him  understand  that,  if  a  woman's  sympathy  availed  any 
thing  to  a  man  with  such  a  dismal  inheritance,  he  might  al 
ways  count  upon  hers.  The  Designing  Creature,  as  Nell 
always  called  her  in  soliloquy,  succeeded  in  holding  Lucius 
a  pleased  and  willing  captive  until  she  made  the  mistake  of 
insisting  upon  her  passionate  love  for  Irish  music  in  a  loud 
voice  while  Nell  sang. 

"  Don't  you  love  it  ?  "  asked  the  widow. 

"  Ay,  ma'am,  when  I  can  hear  it,"  Lucius  acknowledged, 
and  was  overcome  by  a  gloom,  possibly  Celtic,  which  lasted 
until  the  end  of  the  evening,  though  unnoticed  except  by 
the  cause  of  it. 


CHAPTER  VII 

MISS   RIVERS   RECEIVES   A   VISIT 

WHEN  the  swallows,  following  summer,  cross  the  seas  to 
escape  the  northern  winds  and  frosts,  the  well-to-do  resi 
dents  of  "  Auld  Eeekie  "  turn  homeward.  They  grumble 
maybe,  but  they  come.  Some  of  them  because  they  must 
work,  others  because  they  must  pretend  to,  if  their  fat  bank 
balances  are  to  remain  such  as  will  command  respect. 
Others,  again,  come  as  they  went,  because  they  are  accus 
tomed  to  do  as  their  neighbors  do,  without  thinking  for 
themselves,  thereby,  no  doubt,  wisely  conserving  such  ner 
vous  energy  as  they  may  possess. 

With  the  rest  came  Hector  Inchiquin  Inch,  one  of  the 
Lords  of  Council  and  Session,  that  is,  Judge  in  the  Supreme 
Courts  of  Scotland.  We  met  him  five-and-twenty  years  ago 
in  circumstances  which  he  at  anyrate  has  not  forgotten, 
although  for  a  time  he  flattered  himself  that  he  should  do 
so.  He  came  home  to  Edinburgh  almost  directly  after  that 
night  of  which  we  have  told,  and  astonished  his  friends  by 
the  steadiness  and  sobriety  with  which  he  set  to  work  to 
qualify  for  the  Scottish  Bar.  Hard  work  he  found  to  be 
the  best  remedy  for  unpleasant  memories,  and  gradually  he 
grew  more  lenient  towards  himself,  especially  as  success 
came. 

What  had  the  doggedly  persevering  student,  still  less  the 
keen  advocate,  to  do  with  the  shadow  of  a  single  night, 
always  growing  more  shadowy  ?  His  reputation  increased, 
his  appetite  for  work  seemed  insatiable,  and  now  a  year  had 
passed  since  he  had  been  raised  to  the  Bench.  Then,  almost 
at  once,  the  old  trouble  returned.  Whether  it  was  that  with 


54  MR.   PETERS 

more  dignity  came  less  strain  of  perpetual  work  and  less  to 
try  for,  or  whether  physical  trouble  pricked  conscience,  one 
cannot  tell,  but  the  Lord  of  Session  was  often  occupied  in 
self-retproach  when  smart  young  advocates  flattered  them 
selves  that  their  eloquence  commanded,  and  received,  his 
entire  attention. 

Now  he  came  back  from  Switzerland,  where  he  had  spent 
the  vacation,  thin  and  sallow,  looking  more  as  if  he  came 
from  prison  than  from  the  playground  of  Europe.  With 
him  came  his  son,  Archibald,  a  young  fellow  of  nineteen  or 
twenty — a  youngster  who  in  face  took  after  his  dead  mother, 
who  had  been  a  silly,  pretty  woman  of  fashion,  with  a  full 
purse  when  the  young  advocate  married  her.  So  the  brown 
paper  came  down  from  the  windows  of  45  Drumsheugh 
Gardens,  and  Morris,  Lord  Inch's  footman,  standing  on  the 
doorsteps  after  a  holiday  in  the  country,  looked  around  him 
to  see  if  there  were  any  changes,  and  noted  with  satisfaction, 
being  a  man  of  taste,  that  No.  46  had  engaged  a  pretty 
housemaid.  He  also  saw  a  foreign  gentleman  stroll  quietly 
past,  with  the  air  of  a  stranger  who  was  admiring  Drums 
heugh  Gardens  as  they  deserved  to  be  admired. 

If  he  seemed  to  pay  special  attention  to  No.  45,  that  was 
only  natural.  Morris  stood  there,  and  Morris  was  of  opinion 
that  his  figure  and  livery  could  not  be  matched,  outside  the 
British  Isles  at  anyrate. 

"  We  must  introduce  ourselves  to  the  young  lady  at  No. 
46,"  said  Morris  to  himself,  and  thought  no  more  of  the 
foreign  gentleman,  who  strolled  quietly  on. 

It  was  Mr.  Peters,  who  had  passed  the  house  more  than 
once  before,  and  knew  perfectly  well  who  lived  there. 

The  quiet  repose  of  Drumsheugh  Gardens,  or  the  sight  of 
these  preparations  for  habitation,  interested  him  so  much 
that  the  following  morning,  at  about  half-past  ten,  Mr. 
Peters  chose  to  smoke  a  cigar  in  that  direction  again.  He 
had  scarcely  turned  in  at  the  eastern  end,  when  he  saw  a 


MISS  RIVERS  RECEIVES  A    VISIT  55 

boyish  figure  run  down  the  steps  of  No.  45  and  come  towards 
him.  There  was  a  good  distance  between  them;  the  young 
fellow  turned  to  call  back  some  order  to  a  servant,  and  if 
after  that  he  saw  anything  at  all  before  him,  it  could  only  be 
Mr.  Peter's  back,  that  gentleman  having  suddenly  decided 
that  he  wished  to  go  the  other  way. 

So  Mr.  Peters  reached  the  end  of  the  street  first,  and  was 
surveying  a  passing  char-a-bancs,  as  if  in  doubt  about  a  ride 
to  the  Forth  Bridge,  when  young  Inch,  for  it  was  he,  went 

by- 

Mr.  Peters,  looking,  saw  a  fair,  lank  young  fellow,  with 
close-cropped  yellow  hair,  and  a  somewhat  vacant  expres 
sion,  and  receding  chin. 

He  was  in  a  light  riding  suit — breeches,  gaiters,  and 
spurs — the  spurs  longer  and  sharper  than  most  horsemen 
care  to  have  them.  They  jingled  as  he  went,  9hd  he 
flicked  his  little  cane  against  his  gaiter,  seeming  in  excellent 
spirits. 

Evidently  the  boy,  for  he  was  very  boyish,  was  going  for 
a  ride,  and  therefore  one  could  not  follow  him  far,  even  if 
anxious  to  do  so.  But  Peters  turned,  wishing  to  see  what 
he  could  of  him,  and  was  led  into  Princes  Street. 

The  youngster  was  in  no  hurry.  Twice  he  stopped  to 
chat  with  people  he  met.  Then  he  turned  off  Princes 
Street,  and  presently,  to  Mr.  Peters'  surprise,  marched  into 
the  tobacconist's  shop  which  was  presided  over  by  Miss 
Sophia  Amelie  Rivers. 

Mr.  Peters  was  surprised,  and  then  spoke  to  himself  in 
uncomplimentary  terms  for  being  so.  No  doubt  the  boy 
had  gone  in  for  cigarettes  or  matches,  and  would  be  out  in 
a  minute  or  two.  So  he  lit  another  cigar  and  waited  like  the 
patient  man  that  he  always  was.  The  cigar  was  finished, 
and  still  there  was  no  sign  of  Master  Archie  Inch.  So 
Peters,  apparently  quite  contented,  threw  the  cigar-stump 
to  a  waiting  ragamuffin,  with  a  few  words,  unfortunately  in 


56  MR.   PETERS 

a  foreign  tongue,  on  the  value  of  patience.  Then  he  went 
back  to  his  rooms. 

Meanwhile  there  were  tender  passages  in  the  little  tobac 
conist's  shop. 

When  young  Inch  tramped  in  past  the  silently  grinning 
Highlander,  whose  face,  to  an  imaginative  spectator,  might 
have  suggested  a  sneer,  his  spurs  were  jingling  as  though 
he  represented  a  whole  squadron  of  dismounted  dragoons. 
Miss  Amelie  rushed  from  her  retreat  like  a  plump  and  good- 
natured  spider,  and  said  "  Lor'  !  "  likewise  "  My  !  " 

"  I  thought  you  was  a  cavalry  officer  ! "  she  explained, 
which  was  not  displeasing  to  Archie,  though  he  affected  in 
difference,  and  a  certain  amount  of  suspicion. 

"  I  s'pose  you  have  that  sort  of  fellow  dangling  round  at 
times  ?  "  he  suggested,  but  Amelie  suddenly  remembered 
business. 

"  Wot  can  I  give  you,  sir  ?  "  she  asked,  and  destroyed  the 
first  faint  sketch  of  a  very  flowery  compliment  that  had  just 
occurred  to  Archie. 

"  Dreams  !  "  he  said,  a  little  suddenly,  for  fine  compli 
ments  were  difficult  to  him,  and  he  disliked  to  feel  one 
spoilt  in  the  making. 

Miss  Rivers  seemed  neither  to  notice  his  sulkiness  nor  to 
think  his  request  for  "  Dreams  "  peculiar.  She  turned  to 
the  case  behind  her,  and  brought  out  a  packet  of  cigarettes. 
Archie  threw  down  his  cigarette-case  on  the  counter,  but 
held  out  his  hand  for  the  packet. 

"  Let's  see  the  wrapper  !  "  he  demanded,  and  Miss  Rivers 
gave  it  to  him.  "  It's  nothing  new,"  she  said. 

"  '  We  are  the  stuff  that  dreams  are  made  of.' ':  Archie 
read  this  out  aloud,  and  then  gave  her  the  packet  again, 
with  a  sniff. 

"  The  fellow's  got  no  imagination  !  "  he  told  her.  "  It's 
always  the  same  old  thing." 

"  Thirteen  Dreams  for  a  shilling,''  Miss  Rivers  said,  with 


MISS  RIVERS  RECEIVES  A  VISIT  57 

an  absent-minded  air,  and  then  returning  to  business, 
"  Good  thick  uns  too,  and  just  as  good  cigarettes  as  there 
are  in  the  market.  What  more  do  you  want,  Mr.  Inch  ? 
You  gentlemen  expect  so  much." 

She  said  this  with  a  little  flutter,  and  a  sigh  that  made 
x\rchie  inclined  to  suggest  that  a  kiss  into  the  bargain  would 
make  a  packet  of  "  Dreams  "  a  satisfactory  investment.  He 
had,  however,  got  a  swinging  box  on  the  ear  just  before  the 
summer  vacation  for  trying  to  snatch  a  kiss  over  the  coun 
ter,  and  the  memory  of  it  and  of  the  accompanying  threat 
to  refuse  to  serve  him,  made  the  young  man  restrain  him 
self. 

"  The  cigarettes  are  good  enough,"  he  grumbled, 
"  though  I  don't  suppose  anyone  knows  of  'em  or  buys  'em 
but  me.  \Vhat  I  say  is,  the  fellow  misses  his  chance.  Say  a 
chap  comes  in  for  a  cigarette,  just  to  smoke  on  the  way  down 
Princes  Street,  or  something  of  that  kind.  (  Dreams  ! '  he 
says,  and  picks  up  the  packet  and  reads — 

'  We  are  the  stuff  that  "  dreams  "  are  made  of.' 

'  Same  old  motto,'  he  grumbles,  and  picks  out  his  cigarette, 
and  lays  down  his  penny,  and  off  he  goes.  But  s'posin'  now 
he  comes  in  for  one,  and  sees  somethin'  fresh  an'  fetchin' 
like — oh,  well,  somethin'  like  those  scribblin'  fellers  can  run 
off  as  easily  as  winkin',  about,  say,  dream  and  gleam  (of 
hope,  don't  you  know),  or  cloud  and  shroud  (of  despair  or 
death,  or  something  of  that  kind),  and  smoke  and,  well, 
something  cynical  and  bitter,  ten  to  one  he'll  buy  the  whole 
packet  for  the  sake  of  the  wrapper,  an'  take  it  off  to  his 
girl." 

"  Well  !  "  said  Miss  Rivers,  admiringly,  "  I  didn't  know 
you  were  so  clever,  Mr.  Inch,  an'  that's  a  fact.  My  !  I  be 
lieve  you  could  make  'em  up  yourself  as  easily  as  anyone." 

"  I  don't  say  I  couldn't  if  I  was  to  sit  down  and  give  my 
self  up  to  it.  Specially  as  I  feel  sometimes,"  and  here  he 


58  MR.    PETERS 

cast  a  woful  glance  at  Amelie  that  made  her  look  a  little 
self-conscious  in  spite  of  attempts  to  keep  business-like. 

"  There's  more  variety  on  the  ounce  packet  of  pipe  mixt 
ure,"  she  said,  just  to  turn  the  conversation,  and  she  took 
down  half  a  dozen  packets  and  laid  them  out  on  the  counter 
for  Archie  to  read — 

Smoke  and  forget,  for  day  by  day 
Trouble  like  smoke  will  pass  away. 

When  tired  of  fame,  and  wine,  and  kiss, 
Turn  to  your  pipe,  and  dream  with  this. 

"  H'm,  h'm,"  he  went  on  over  two  or  three  more. 
"  They're  all  very  well,  I  daresay,  Miss  Rivers,  for  old  chaps 
who've  had  their  fling,  you  know,  and  think  everything's  a 
farce  because  they  don't  feel  it  like  they  did.  I  don't  know 
that  a  man's  sure  to  be  right  either  because  he  don't  think  as 
he  used  to,  you  know.  They're  not  the  rhymes  for  young 
chaps  anyway." 

Archie  shook  his  head  wisely  over  this,  and  Miss  Rivers 
secretly  admired  his  wisdom  more  than  she  cared  to  own 
even  to  herself,  so  she  talked  on. 

"  That's  a  notion  o'  yours  about  the  cigarettes,  Mr.  Inch, 
though  whether  the  young  men  dropping  in  here  for  a  box 
of  matches  or  an  ounce  of  Dream  Mixture  think  so  much 
about  the  ladies  as  you  suppose,  I  can't  say  I'm  sure.  I 
can't  believe  all  young  gentlemen  are  so  silly." 

"  Perhaps  they  aren't,"  Archie  allowed,  "  perhaps  they've 
no  reason  to  be." 

"  Well,"  Miss  Rivers  promised,  "  I'll  see  what  can  be  done 
about  those  Dreams  anyway  !  My  master's  due  round  to 
night,  or  some  night  soon,  to  look  at  the  books  and  things, 
and  I'll  be  sure  to  tell  him  of  your  idea." 

"  Who's  your  master  ?  "  asked  Archie. 

"  That's  private,"  Miss  Rivers  answered  promptly.  "  He's 


MISS  RIVERS  RECEIVES  A   VISIT  59 

a  gentleman,  Mr.  Inch,  and  that's  all  you  or  I  need  to 
know." 

"  A  gentleman,  is  he,  and  keeps  a  tobacco  shop  ?  Tell  us 
another,  Miss  Kivers  !  " 

"  Yes,  a  gentleman,"  persisted  Miss  Rivers  angrily,  lean 
ing  a  little  over  the  counter,  her  weight  upon  her  tightly 
clenched  fists.  "  P'r'aps  you'll  say  next  I'm  no  lady  'cause 
I  see  to  the  shop  for  him  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  angry,  Miss  Rivers;  I  was  only  chaffing.  It's 
awfully  hard  to  say  what  a  gentleman  is  nowadays." 

"  Is  it  ?  I'll  tell  you  then — a  gentleman's  one  who  minds 
his  own  business,  Mr.  Inch.  I  don't  care  to  know  no  other 
sort  either." 

She  glanced  over  the  counter  at  him,  and  he  glared  back, 
his  temper  and  his  color  beginning  to  rise  too. 

"  I  wish  your  master,  since  he's  such  a  fine  gentleman, 
would  teach  you  manners,"  he  retorted,  moving  towards  the 
door. 

"  You  might  go  and  get  some  lessons  yourself  since  you've 
so  much  money  to  pay  for  'em,"  Miss  Rivers  informed  him, 
haughtily.  "  I  needn't  go  to  him  for  lessons  either,  Mr. 
Inch.  There's  other  gentlemen  come  in  sometimes  who 
could  teach  you  a  lot.  They  don't  go  insulting  a  poor  girl 
because  she  tries  to  earn  an  honest  living  either  ! "  And 
satisfied  with  that  parting  shot,  she  bounced  behind  the 
curtain,  and  plumping  down  upon  the  little  settee,  thrust 
fingers  into  both  ears,  lest  he  should  retort  in  such  fashion 
as  to  bring  her  out  again.  But  Archie  Inch  did  nothing  of 
the  kind.  He  stared  blankly  at  the  curtain  for  half  a 
minute,  and  then,  jingling  his  spurs  more  than  ever,  strode 
out  of  the  shop  -with  what  little  chin  he  had  thrust  well 
forward.  He  didn't  dash  on  to  the  back  of  any  fiery  steed 
and  gallop  off  his  perturbation.  In  truth,  I  can't  swear  that 
he  had  planned  a  ride  for  that  morning.  But  he  went  home, 
not  so  ready  to  greet  friends  as  he  had  been  earlier,  and  tell- 


60  MR.   PETERS 

ing  himself  that,  by  Jove,  though  Emily  was  always  Al,  he 
didn't  know  how  ripping  she  could  look  until  that  morning. 
Nevertheless,  he  wasn't  altogether  satisfied  with  the  result, 
and  spent  a  long  time,  and  several  "  Dreams,"  in  trying  to 
remember  exactly  what  all  the  fuss  was  about,  and  in  won 
dering  how  he  could  put  things  right. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MR  PETERS  IS  PHILANTHROPIC 

AT  Mrs.  Jimps'  table  that  evening  Mr.  Peters  was  un 
usually  silent;  and  Mrs.  Jimps,  who  considered  him  in 
many  ways  the  pattern  of  a  Paying  Guest,  noticed  that  si 
lence,  and  was  uneasy.  Finding  that  partridges  were  plen 
tiful  and  cheap  that  day,  she  had  bought  a  brace,  and  had 
carved  them  herself,  marking  them  on  the  menu  as  a  hors 
d'ceuvre. 

"  Our  Annie  " — perhaps  through  carelessness,  perhaps 
through  malice,  for  she  had  never  forgotten  or  forgiven  the 
cigar-trick — had  bestowed  upon  Mr.  Peters  a  drumstick, 
instead  of  the  wing  with  a  slice  of  the  breast  which  Mrs. 
Jimps  had  intended  for  him. 

That  better  portion  had  been  practically  wasted,  thrown 
away  upon  a  mere  wanderer  who  was  to  leave  for  the  ends 
of  the  earth  to-morrow  morning,  while  Mr.  Peters,  to  all 
appearance,  might  be  considered  in  the  light  of  a  small 
annuity. 

Was  he  vexed  ? 

"  I  hope,"  said  Mrs.  Jimps,  hiding  her  anxiety  with  a 
smile,  "  that  the  partridges  were  good  ?  There  was  not 
much  of  them,  I  know,  but  '  little  and  good,'  I  do  hope. 
Mr.  Peters,  was  your  partridge  good  ?  " 

"  He  was  an  active  bird,"  said  Mr.  Peters  sententiously. 
"  I  hope  he  was  good,  madam." 

Mrs.  Jimps  gave  a  little  sigh  of  relief  under  her  breath, 
for  this,  from  him,  was  quite  a  joke. 

"  A  most  sarcastic  gentleman,"  she  said,  playfully,  to  her 
right-hand  neighbor,  who,  being  an  American  tourist,  and 
acquainted  with  "  Brown  of  Calaveras,"  puzzled  Mrs.  Jimps 


62  MR.   PETERS 

by  surveying  Mr.  Peters  with  a  well-affected  air  of  terror, 
and  saying  that  he  was  sorry  to  hear  it. 

As  dinner  proceeded,  she  was  quite  sure  there  was  noth 
ing  wrong — that,  if  anything,  something  had  happened  to 
please  Mr.  Peters.  Much  to  her  delight,  he  joined  in  a  lit 
tle  discussion  on  Providence,  which  began  in  an  undertone 
between  two  new-comers,  who  didn't  know  or  didn't  re 
gard  Mrs.  J imps'  dislike  for  the  introduction  of  such  topics 
at  table.  Someone  was  sure  to  be  offended,  she  always 
thought,  but  since  it  had  begun  she  was  glad  that  Mr. 
Peters'  voice  boomed  in  from  the  other  end  of  the  table, 
silencing  the  dilettanti  by  a  pious  declaration  of  belief.  He 
spoke  of  Fate,  instead  of  using  the  word  Providence,  but  his 
tone  left  no  doubt  in  Mrs.  Jimps'  mind  that  he  meant  the 
same  thing,  and  spoke  from  some  striking  personal  experi 
ence.  Mrs.  Jimps  loved  a  story,  and  as  she  rose  from  the 
table  she  made  up  her  mind  that  Mr.  Peters  should  give  her 
the  benefit  of  his  experience,  but  she  was  not  to  have  the 
pleasure  that  night. 

"  Mr.  Peters,  if  it  isn't  too  much  trouble  for  you  to  look 
in  at  my  sitting-room  as  you  go  upstairs,  I  would  like  to  give 
you  a  receipt  and  some  change  that  I  owe  you.  Or  may  I 
come  up  with  it  ?  I  never  like  putting  temptation  in  the 
way  of  servants,"  Mrs.  Jimps  explained,  for  the  benefit  of 
the  world  at  large,  "  however  honest  they  may  be." 

"  It  is  safe  in  your  hands,  my  dear  madam,"  said  Peters, 
waving  the  matter  aside  with  an  expressive  movement  of 
a  very  muscular  hand.  "  For  me,  I  have  promised  myself 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  a  lady  friend  and  cannot  stay." 

So  frank  !  as  Mrs.  Jimps  pointed  out  to  the  others  who 
were  present,  and  with  such  a  pleasant  foreign  way  with 
him.  Suave  ?  Yes  !  That  expressed  it  exactly,  and  she 
retired,  smiling,  to  her  little  sitting-room,  whence  she  pres 
ently  heard  Mr.  Peters  go  out. 

That  same  evening  Lucius  Moriarty  grew  restless  after 


MR.    PETERS  IS  PHILANTHROPIC  63 

dinner.  He  hummed  and  ha'd  in  the  drawing-room,  taking 
up  and  throwing  down,  one  after  another,  the  new  books 
which  Nell  had  put  there  for  him  to  look  over.  The  two 
had  dined  together  at  seven,  and  by  half-past  eight  Lucius 
was  fidgeting  with  the  drawing-room  blinds  and  comment 
ing  on  the  weather. 

"  It's  a  fine  night  for  a  stroll,"  he  announced  at  last. 

"  I'll  go  for  a  walk  with  you,  dear,  if  you  like,"  Nell  told 
him,  dutifully,  and  Lucius  was  rather  discomfited. 

"  H'm  !  I  don't  know,"  and  he  shook  his  head  suspi 
ciously.  "  It's  the  night  for  doing  up  your  books,  you'll  re 
member.  I  can't  have  ye  neglecting  these  things  just  to 
give  me  company." 

"  They're  done  !  "  said  Nell  proudly.  "  Balanced  to  a 
ha'penny,  and  I've  not  had  to  put  in  anything  to  make  up." 

"  Well,  well,  you'll  do  in  time  as  well  as  any  of  'em,  I 
daresay,"  Lucius  allowed,  with  a  gruffness  that  he  thought 
made  him  a  perfect  imitation  of  the  Roman  Father. 

"  I  don't  want  any  cheese-paring,  you  know,  but  I  can't 
have  waste.  Those  women  downstairs  'd  send  us  to  the 
workhouse  in  twelve  months  if  you  and  I  didn't  keep  an  eye 
on  'em,  remember  that  !  " 

"  Yes,  dear.    Cook  wants  two  pounds  rise  next  month." 

"  Two  pounds  rise  !  She  wants  the  sack,  that's  what  she 
wants,"  said  Lucius  defiantly,  "  and  she'll  get  it  too." 

"  All  right,  dad.    I'll  tell  her  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Tell  her  what  ?  " 

"Tell  her  she'll  get  the  sack.  That's  what  you  said, 
wasn't  it  ?  " 

Lucius  looked  at  her  and  gaped  in  amazement.  :'  You've 
got  a  heart  of  stone  !  "  he  decided.  "  I  never  saw  such  a 
girl — though  I  know  you're  all  the  same  nowadays.  You've 
no  compassion.  Are  ye  your  mother's  daughter  ?  Why 
when  she  was  your  age  I  was  courtin'  her,  an'  her  heart 
was  as  soft " 


64  MK.   PETERS 

"  Dad,  how  young  !  " 

Nelly  threw  up  her  hands,  and  Lucius,  perceiving  when 
it  was  too  late  that  he  had  been  rash,  fled  speechless. 

"  Sha'n't  I  come  ?  "  Nelly  called  down  over  the  stair  as 
well  as  she  could  for  laughing,  but  all  she  got  back  was  a 
broken  murmur,  "  Telegram — news — club  on  way  back — 
can't  take  you  in,"  as  the  door  banged.  So  she  had  her 
laugh  out  by  herself,  and  then  called  up  cook  to  settle  the 
question  of  higher  wages,  and  to  mention  one  or  two  little 
things  which  she  would  expect  to  have  more  carefully  seen 
to  in  consequence. 

Meanwhile  Lucius,  whose  gruffness  seemed  to  have  some 
how  got  left  behind  as  he  banged  the  hall  door,  went  chuck 
ling  upon  his  way. 

"  A  woman  could  always  do  what  she  liked  with  you,"  he 
acknowledged  to  himself.  "  And  she's  'cuter  than  most  by 
a  long  way." 

It  was  a  fine  night,  as  he  had  told  Nell,  and  at  first  Lucius 
went  along  in  the  breezy,  open  way  which  was  natural  to 
him,  he  being  always  glad  to  meet  a  friend,  and  generally 
finding  one  before  he  had  gone  far.  But  to-night  this  could 
not  last,  such  shameful  changes  are  wrought  by  a  wish  for 
secrecy.  It  was  not  long  before  Lucius'  coat-collar  was 
turned  up,  and  his  face  bent  down.  By  the  time  he  reached 
the  narrower  by-ways  at  the  back  of  Princes  Street,  he  was 
a  figure  at  which  any  observant  constable  would  look  with 
suspicion.  He  slunk  along  on  the  more  shadowy  side  of  the 
street,  and  seemed  to  be  passing  Miss  Rivers'  premises  as 
carelessly  as  any  other  place,  when  he  suddenly  made  a  dive 
at  the  door,  as  a  rabbit  dives  for  shelter  in  its  burrow,  but 
drew  back  hurriedly. 

"  A  customer,  begor  !  "  said  Lucius,  very  much  flurried, 
and  slunk  on  to  the  next  shadow,  where  he  waited  with  an 
eye  on  the  little  path  of  light  that  led  through  the  open 
door  into  the  presence  of  Miss  Rivers. 


MR.    PETERS  IS   PHILANTHROPIC  65 

"  By  golly  !  "  he  thought,  as  some  such  figure  of  speech 
occurred  to  him.  "  Something  might  he  made  o'  that. 
Shrine,  dine,  no,  that  won't  do;  wine,  no,  divine's  better, 
but  what's  an  old  chap  like  you  got  to  do  with  such  things  ? 
The  Dream-Mixture  things  ain't  so  bad,  quite  philosophic, 
some  of  'em,  but  if  ever  this  fad  o'  yours  got  known  among 
the  boys  at  the  Exchange,  an'  any  such  like  things  could 
be  fathered  on  you,  begor  !  you  might  as  well  get  into  one 
of  your  own  flour  sacks  an'  go  off  the  far  end  o'  Leith  Pier 
at  once.  Long  time  that  chap  is  buying  a  cigar  or  a  box  o' 
matches  !  " 

That  was  quite  true.  Mr.  Peters,  whose  broad  back 
Lucius  had  not  given  himself  time  to  recognize,  was  taking 
what  would  have  been  an  unnecessarily  long  time  to  buy  a 
box  of  matches,  but  then  he  had  more  important  business 
on  hand. 

When  he  first  reached  the  shop,  Miss  Rivers  was  what  she 
herself  would  have  called  "  stand-offish." 

Mr.  Peters,  in  bowing  over  the  hand  not  too  readily  ex 
tended  to  him  across  the  counter,  had  playfully  pretended 
to  kiss  it,  and  Miss  Rivers  was  wroth. 

"  I  'ate  those  nasty  foreign  ways,"  she  snapped  out  at  the 
aggrieved  Peters.  "  Give  me  the  ways  of  an  honest  Eng 
lishman — or  Scotchman,  for  the  matter  o'  that." 

Mr.  Peters,  who  had  called  there  more  than  once  lately  in 
passing,  kept  a  philosophic  silence,  and,  taking  a  match,  sat 
down,  while  Amelie  regarded  him  almost  with  hatred. 
Hadn't  she,  as  she  put  it,  cast  him  up  against  Mr.  Inch  only 
that  morning,  though  not  by  name,  and  hadn't  Mr.  Inch 
said  more  than  he  meant  because  of  it  ?  Wasn't  Peters, 
therefore,  justly  to  be  blamed  for  tears  that  had  fallen 
since  ?  So  she  jerked  about  a  little,  putting  things  straight 
behind  the  counter,  while  Mr.  Peters  smoked  on  in  silence 
and  humility. 

"  You  might  speak,  Cap'n  Peters,"  she  said  at  last,  rather 

5 


66  MR.   PETERS 

pleased  at  his  complete  submission.,  "  I  don't  know  as  I  told 
you  not  to." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  anything  to  say,  now,"  med 
itated  "  Cap'n  "  Peters  deliberately.  "  It  is  so  easy  to  be 
wrong  and  to  offend." 

This  was  obviously  a  thing  he  would  do  anything  to 
avoid,  and  Amelie  was  gratified. 

"  If  you  don't  know  that  you've  anything  to  say,  now, 
say  what  you  had  to  say,  then,"  she  told  him.  "  You  know 
I  don't  always  mean  all  I  say.  The  shop  gits  on  one's 
nerves  sometimes.  Sometimes  it's  lonely,  too." 

"  It  is  exercise  that  you  need,"  sagely  suggested  Mr. 
Peters,  who  bad  never  felt  the  need  of  it  in  his  life,  though 
at  times  he  had  been  forced  to  take  a  good  deal. 

"  You  are  losing  your  so  good  color,"  he  added,  with  a 
concerned  air. 

"  Exercise  !  me  !  "  ejaculated  Amelie.  "  What'd  you 
recommend  ?  A  'unter,  an'  will  you  mind  the  shop  ?  " 

"  A  bicycle,"  he  suggested,  ignoring  the  sarcasm. 

"  'Oo  are  you  gittin'  at  ?  "  asked  Amelie,  her  temper  be 
ginning  to  rise  again.  "  'Go's  goin'  to  let  me  have  a  bike  ? 
D'you  think  I  can  pay  for  one,  or  lessons  either  ?  " 

"  One  may  hire,  and  one  may  teach,"  returned  Mr.  Peters, 
dropping  the  short  stump  of  his  cigar  into  the  spittoon  at 
his  feet.  He  then  leant  forward,  and,  taking  a  "  Dream  " 
from  the  open  box  upon  the  counter,  laid  down  a  penny  and 
relapsed  into  silence. 

"  Who'd  hire  and  who'd  teach  ?  " 

"  I  might,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  calmly. 

"  You  !    What's  your  little  game,  Cap'n  Peters  ?  " 

Amelie  flushed  slightly,  and,  drawing  herself  up  from  the 
counter  on  which  she  had  been  leaning,  looked  at  him  sus 
piciously,  but  Peters  smoked  on  unmoved. 

"  My  very  little  game  is  exercise,"  he  confided  to  her.  "  I 
am  a  big  man,  and  I  grow  fat.  It  is  not  good.  I  eat,  I 


MR.    PETERS  IS  PHILANTHROPIC  67 

drink.,  I  smoke,  I  sleep,  all  too  much  in  this  city.  Soon 
Giuseppe  Peters  will  have  a  fat  heart  and  die." 

"  Lor'  !  "  said  Miss  Elvers,  rather  touched  by  this,  "  you 
mustn't  say  such  things,  it's  wicked." 

But  Mr.  Peters  nodded  his  head  with  an  air  of  mild 
desperation.  "  It  will  be  so,"  he  predicted,  and  relapsed 
into  silence  again. 

"  See  me  biking  !  "  ejaculated  Amelie,  and  became  lost 
in  contemplation  of  such  bliss. 

This  was  a  joy  that  Mr.  Inch  had  never  hinted  at.  Her 
color  was  going,  too,  she  knew,  and  Amelie  cared  as  much 
for  her  complexion,  strangely  enough,  as  any  fine  lady. 

"  I  feel  my  heart  after  dinner,"  explained  Mr.  Peters,  and 
thought  of  the  partridge  drumstick. 

"  Course  I'd  love  it— awful  !  "  admitted  Amelie.  "  If 
'twould  do  you  good,  too,  why  so  much  gained  !  But  you 
men,  who's  to  believe  you  ?  What'd  my  young  man  say, 
too  ?  " 

This  last  was  an  inspiration,  and  she  watched  Peters  nar 
rowly  for  the  effect,  but  he  was  quite  unmoved. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  responded,  "  I  did  not  know.  My  best  con 
gratulations.  Why  has  he  not  seen  to  this  ?  Let  him  come 
too." 

"  I  didn't  say  I  had  one,"  retorted  Amelie,  and  then  she 
considered  the  matter,  while  Peters  smoked  and  watched. 
After  all,  she  thought,  Captain  Peters  had  never  been  rude. 
Now  she  came  to  think  of  it,  she  was  as  mild  as  milk  with 
Mr.  Inch  until  he  as  good  as  said  she  couldn't  be  a  lady  be 
cause  she  kept  a  tobacconist's  shop.  Seemed  to  think,  too, 
that  he  could  have  everything  all  his  own  way.  Well,  she'd 
show  him. 

"  How  could  I  get  out  ?  "  she  asked  a  bit  fretfully. 
"  Eight-thirty  to  eleven.  Them's  the  hours  for  this  place. 
You  wouldn't  teach  me  down  Princes  Street  after  that, 
would  you  ?  " 


68  Mil.    PP1TERS 

"  We  will  not  have  all  the  world  to  see  your  first  efforts," 
Mr.  Peters  told  her,  gravely.  "  They  will  be  comic.  But  in 
the  Queensferry  Koad,  for  example  ?  We  would  meet  at 
half-past  seven.  That  is  quite  possible.  You  after  your 
breakfast,  for  digestion,  and  I  before  mine,  for  appetite. 
Think  of  your  color  !  "  and  he  got  up  and  passed  out. 

"  Well,  ta,  ta,"  said  Miss  Elvers.  "  I'll  think  about  it," 
and  she  was  doing  so,  carefully,  a  couple  of  minutes  later, 
when  Lucius  walked  in. 


CHAPTER   IX 

LUCIUS  LOOKS  INTO  THINGS 

HE  nodded  to  Amelie,  and,  giving  a  quick  glance  round 
to  see  how  things  looked,  went,  as  usual,  straight  into  the 
little  room  beyond.  Here  the  gas  was  lit,  as,  indeed,  it  was 
almost  always,  unfortunately  for  poor  Amelie's  complexion. 
The  books  in  which  she  kept  her  accounts  \vere  put  out 
upon  her  little  table. 

Once  settled  down  to  them,  with  Amelie  at  his  elbow  to 
give  any  necessary  explanations,  Lucius  adopted  somewhat 
of  that  stern,  inquisitorial  air  which  he  thought  the  correct 
tiling  at  home,  while  Amelie,  poor  girl,  not  knowing  him  so 
well  as  Nell  did,  trembled  a  little.  She  wished  she  could 
have  had  a  more  profitable  month  than  was  shown  by  the 
books  over  which  Lucius  pursed  his  lips  and  shook  his  head. 

"  There's  no  profit  here,  Miss  Rivers,"  he  said  at  last,  and 
poor  Amelie  had  to  admit  it. 

"  I  believe  trade's  bad  everywhere  just  now,  sir,"  she  sug 
gested,  and  Lucius  nodded  more  gravely  than  ever.  • 

"  That's  true,"  he  said.  "  A  man  can't  afford  to  chuck 
money  away  on  fads  nowadays,"  and  Amelie's  heart  sank. 

"  I  do  my  best,"  she  told  him.  "  I  don't  know  as  I  can  do 
more,  or  as  anyone  else  could  do  better,  but  if  you  could  tell 
me  anything,  sir,  I'd  try  it." 

"  Xo  doubt,  no  doubt,"  agreed  Lucius  gruffly;  "wouldn't 
have  you  here  else,"  and  he  bit  the  end  of  the  pen,  which 
was  a  habit  of  his,  and  glared  at  the  figures  as  if  they  had 
personally  insulted  him. 


70  MR.   PETERS 

"  There  was  a  young  gentleman  in  this  mornin',"  Amelie 
went  on,  trying  to  be  hopeful,  "  an'  I  thought  he  said  some 
thing  very  clever." 

"  Hey  !  What's  that  ?  "  asked  Lucius,  waking  up  from  a 
brown  study. 

"  If  we  could  get  different  verses  to  put  on  the  Dreams, 
he  said,  young  chaps  might  buy  'em  to  take  home,  and  so 
they'd  sometimes  take  a  packet,  or  a  box  even,  instead  of 
one  or  two.  As  it  is,"  she  added,  "  they'd  rather,  I  mean 
a'most  as  soon,  take  Dimitrinos  or  Melacrinos." 

"  Would  they  ?  "  returned  Lucius  gruffly.  "  More  fools 
they.  Mine  are  just  as  good,  and  bigger.  Special  brand. 
Can't  get  'em  anywhere  else  !  " 

"  They're  awful  good  they  say,"  Amelie  told  him  ear 
nestly,  "  and  this  young  gentleman  was  very  friendly  like, 
an'  give  me  this  idea." 

"  Very  friendly  like,  was  he  ? "  grumbled  Lucius. 
"  Hope  you  don't  encourage  young  gentlemen  to  come 
round  here,  Miss  Eivers.  Bad  for  them  and  bad  for  you,  ye 
know." 

"  I  can't  drive  'em  away,  sir,  can  I  ?  "  objected  Amelie, 
her  voice  quavering  a  little.  "  It  would  spoil  the  business, 
wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  agreed  Lucius  hastily  ("  You 
darned  old  fool  ? "  he  muttered  to  himself  under  his 
breath).  "  Only,  of  course,  you've  yourself  to  think  of  as 
well  as  the  shop,  don't  you  know.  That's  all,  my  dear.  I'll 
think  over  what  you  say  about  the  Dreams.  Never  touch 
'em  myself." 

"  They're  awful  good,"  repeated  Amelie,  with  conviction, 
somewhat  cheered. 

"  Don't  smoke  yourself,  I  hope  !  "  suggested  Lucius 
sharply. 

"  I  tried  once,  sir,"  Miss  Rivers  had  to  admit.  "  I  thought 
I'd  like  to  be  able  to  say  I  knew  they  was  good,  but — but  I 


LUCIUS  LOOKS  INTO  THINGS  71 

wasn't  well  after,  an'  I  haven't  tried  again.  I  put  a  penny 
in  the  till,  sir." 

"  Tut,  tut,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  said  Lucius  testily. 
"  Let's  think  now.  D'you  miss  anything  by  closing  early  ? 
Or,  often  a  man  wants  baccy  on  the  way  to  his  office.  D'you 
open  in  good  time  ?  What  are  your  hours  ?  " 

"  Eight-thirty  to  eleven,  sir,"  Amelie  told  him.  "  I'll  try 
eight  to  eleven-thirty,  if  you  like.  That  would  give  us  the 
chance  of  an  extra  half-hour  each  way  after  the  rest  have 
shut  up/' 

"  Eight-thirty  to  eleven,  and  a  half -hour  tacked  on  each 
way  to  that  !  Good  Lord  !  Does  the  girl  think  I'm  a  slave- 
driver  ?  Nonsense,  lassie,  this  must  be  seen  to." 

Lucius  then  got  up  and  put  on  his  overcoat,  stamping  as 
he  did  so,  to  ease  his  mind  a  little. 

"  The  others  do  it,  so  we  must,"  Amelie  insisted.  "  And 
I  hope  you  know  I'm  doing  my  best,  sir.  I've  never  thought 
to  complain,  for  I  gets  time  to  myself  here  for  readin'  an'  so 
on.  I'm  glad  to  have  such  a  place.  There's  lots  would  jump 
out  of  their  skins  to-night  to  get  it." 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  was  all  Lucius  felt  inclined  to  say,  and 
he  was  out  looking  round  the  shop  before  he  spoke  again. 

"  It's  stuffy  in  there,  my  dear,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Better 
read  your  book  out  here  most  times.  You  keep  it  clean  and 
tidy  out  here,  I  can  see.  And,  lemme  see,  I  haven't  paid 
you  your  month's  wages,  have  I  ?  Here  they  are,"  and  he 
stamped  back  behind  the  curtain,  and  counted  them  out. 

"  Five  shillings  a  month  more  now,"  he  explained  hur 
riedly,  "  because  you're  doing  so  well.  Good-night,  good 
night.  Shut  up  at  once  an'  go  home,  an'  damn  the  other 
people — I  mean  good-night." 

He  hurried  out,  not  waiting  to  hear  her  thanks,  and  went 
away  muttering  down  the  street. 

"  Good  Lord  !  Eight-thirty  to  eleven.  Fancy  my  Nell 
doing  that.  Might  have  been  Nell's  luck,  I  s'pose.  A  stuffy 


72  MR.    PETERS 

little  hole  like  that.  It's  as  dull  as  ditch  water.  Why  I'd 
get  screwed  every  pay-day,  and  leave  the  shop  with  the  first 
chap  that  looked  at  me,  if  that  was  me  !  And  to  think  I 
thought  I  was  doin'  the  girl  a  charity.  Plenty  to  jump  out 
of  their  skins  for  it  ?  Good  Lord  !  I  must  talk  to  Nell. 
She's  a  woman,  and  she'll  know  more  than  I  can  about  the 
girl's  chances." 

He  forgot  all  about  the  club,  which  he  had  intended  to 
call  at  for  conscience'  sake,  and  went  straight  home. 

There,  over  a  glass  of  toddy  and  a  pipe,  he  pretended  to 
read,  but  puzzled  Xell  at  intervals  with  such  questions  as, 
how  would  she  like  to  keep  a  tobacconist's  shop,  what  hours 
the  servants  kept,  and  what  holidays  they  got,  and  so  on, 
until  she  said  good-night  and  went  wondering  to  her  room. 
He  threw  down  his  book  and  went  off  too,  soon  after,  mut 
tering  "  eight-thirty  to  eleven.  Good  Lord  !  "  as  he  went. 


CHAPTER  X 

A   PROFESSIONAL   CONSULTATION 

Ix  a  house  not  far  from  No.  45  Drumsheugh  Gardens, 
that  confirmed  bachelor  and  well-known  physician,  Dr. 
Maitland,  was  sitting  down  to  his  dinner  the  same  evening, 
when  his  man  handed  him  a  note  from  Xo.  45.  It  was  very 
short.  Its  substance  was  that  Lord  Inch  had  come  home 
from  his  holiday  and  wished  to  see  him. 

"  Will  you,  my  dear  Maitland,  make  a  special  exception 
for  an  old  friend  and  school-fellow,  and  allow  me  to  come 
round  after  dinner  to  have  a  cigar  and  a  chat  with  you  ?  " 

When  Maitland,  who  was  very  short-sighted,  had  peered 
into  the  note  and  mastered  it,  he  sat  back  in  his  chair  and 
thought  for  awhile,  regardless  of  the  fact  that  the  cover  had 
been  removed  from  the  soup-tureen,  and  the  soup  was  get 
ting  cold. 

"  What's  wrong,  I  wonder  ?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  The 
fellow  hasn't  been  in  here  for  years.  At  one  time  I  thought 
his  wife  came  between  us.  But  she's  dead  long  ago,  poor, 
silly  soul.  What's  wrong,  I  wonder  ?  "  He  sat  pondering; 
and  then,  "  What  an  ass  I  am  to  think  about  a  diagnosis 
before  seeing  the  case.  Hey,  what,  Ross  ?  " — this  last  was 
aloud,  as  the  man  rather  ostentatiously  put  the  cover  back 
on  the  soup. 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  wait  a  minute.  Bring  a  card  from  my  writ 
ing-table." 

lie  took  the  card,  and  scribbling,  "  Come  by  all  means; 
coffee  at  8.30,"  settled  down  to  his  dinner. 

The  dark,  strongly  marked,  intellectual  face  was  like  a 
mask  to  cover  his  thoughts.  They  disturbed  neither  his 


74  MR.   PETERS 

face  nor  his  appetite,  but  he  ate  in  silence  without  any  of 
the  little  remarks  he  was  used  to  exchange  with  his  old 
servant,  and  in  spite  of  his  sagacious  scouting  of  premature 
diagnosis,  Lord  Inch  continued  to  occupy  his  mind. 

"  Coffee  in  the  consulting-room,  Ross,  when  Lord  Inch 
comes,"  he  said,  as  he  rose  from  the  table.  "  I'm  not  at 
home  to  anyone  else  to-night." 

"  The  carriage,  sir  ?  "  Eoss  suggested. 

"  I  sha'n't  go  out.  Can't  !  Tell  Sandy  he's  not  to  wait. 
After  all,  for  old  fogies  like  you  and  me,  our  own  fireside's 
best.  Her  ladyship's  '  At  Home  '  won't  miss  me,  Ross." 

Ross,  who  considered  his  master  would  be  a  catch,  as  he 
put  it,  "  for  ony  lassie,"  and  who  was  in  mortal  dread  of  any 
change  in  the  existing  order  of  things,  grunted  and  went 
off  gladly  to  tell  the  coachman,  while  Maitland  crossed  the 
hall  to  his  consulting-room. 

Here  he  was  sitting  by  a  wood  fire,  with  a  book  in  his 
hand,  when  Lord  Inch  was  shown  in,  half  an  hour  later. 

He  rose  and  shook  hands,  peering  at  the  Judge  as  he  did 
so,  and  pointed  to  an  easy-chair  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire. 

"  Make  yourself  comfortable  there,"  he  said,  "  and  try 
those  cigars.  I  got  'em  a  bargain,  I  think.  Ross  will  bring  us 
our  coffee,  and  then  we  can  chat.  Where  have  you  been  ?  " 

"  In  Switzerland  most  of  the  time,"  his  visitor  told  him, 
eying  the  cigar,  "  and  a  fortnight  in  Venice." 

"  Much  overrated  place,"  growled  Maitland. 

"  Where  were  you  ?  "  asked  the  other  man,  twisting  his 
cigar  about  between  his  fingers. 

"  Fishing  in  my  own  country.  I  don't  half  know  it  yet," 
said  Maitland,  dryly,  and  Inch  gave  a  little  laugh. 

"  You've  the  same  sarcastic  way  I  see,  Alec,"  he  told  him. 
"  You  should  marry." 

It  cost  Maitland  an  effort  to  avoid  a  home  thrust  at  that, 
but  he  choked  it  down  as  the  coffee  came  in,  and  looked  on 
in  silence  while  Inch  stirred  his  without  touching;  it. 


A  PROFESSIONAL  CONSULTATION  75 

"  How's  the  boy  ?  "  he  asked  presently. 

"  In  rude  health,  I  believe,"  answered  the  other,  staring 
at  the  fire.  "  He  won't  set  the  Thames  ablaze,  Alec." 

"  Which  of  us  will,  man  ?  "  retorted  the  doctor.  "  But 
we're  both  useful  members  of  society,  I  think.  Many 
Youngsters  would  wish  nothing  higher  than  to  have  my 
practice  or  your  place  at  the  Parliament  House.  I  don't 
suppose  our  young  days  were  all  they  might  have  been 
either,"  he  added  meditatively.  "  We  gained  experience 
though,  and  made  the  most  of  that,  I  believe." 

The  Judge  frowned  a  little,  and  Maitland  noticed  it. 

"  You  were  a  canny  lad,  Inch,"  he  said.  "  You  always 
knew  the  worth  of  a  good  reputation  too  well  to  go  wrong, 
and  I  don't  suppose  you've  any  shortcomings  of  your  own 
to  mind,  when  you're  wigging  a  poor  devil  in  the  dock.  I 
wish  I'd  as  clean  a  record  !  What  can  I  do  for  you  to 
night  ?  Nothing  professional,  I  hope." 

"  I  don't  know,"  returned  the  other,  getting  up  and 
leaning  against  the  mantel-piece  with  his  back  to  the  fire. 
"  Probably  it's  nothing  at  all.  I  expect  I  just  want  a  tonic 
and  a  chat  with  an  old  friend  to  cheer  me  up.  A  touch  of 
liver,  I  daresay,  Maitland  ?  " 

"  Very  likely,"  Maitland  agreed,  scanning  him.  "  Those 
beastly  foreign  hotels,  with  their  vile-made  dishes  of  the 
Lord  knows  what,  except  that  it  isn't  honest  beef  or  mutton 
— they're  quite  enough  to  account  for  anything,  Inch. 
Now,  next  year  you  should  come  North  with  me,  and  rough 
it  a  little." 

He  switched  on  another  electric  light  in  a  movable  lamp 
as  he  spoke,  and  put  that  on  the  mantel-piece. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  he  said,  and  leant  with  one 
shoulder  against  the  mantel-piece  facing  Lord  Inch,  while 
he  listened  in  silence  to  a  slightly  disjointed  story,  told  in  a 
somewhat  apologetic  way. 

"  It  will  be  liver,  won't  it  ?  "  Lord  Inch  suggested.  "  I'm 


76  MK.   PETERS 

not  an  active  man,  you  know,  Maitland.  Sitting  still  most 
of  the  day,  you  know,  during  session,  and  perhaps  dining 
out  too  often.  I  found  myself  not  so  young  as  I  used  to  be 
when  we  tried  a  little  bit  of  climbing,  the  boy  and  I.  Not 
in  training,  you  know,  I  got  fagged  pretty  quickly,  and,  in 
fact,  gave  it  up.  Short  of  wind,  and  stitch  in  the  side,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing." 

He  began  stripping  the  outer  leaf  off  the  cigar  which  he 
had  all  the  time  in  his  hand,  and  Maitland  watched  him 
curiously.  As  the  story  went  on,  and  as  he  watched  the 
other,  his  face,  which  had  shown  every  little  change  of  feel 
ing  while  they  spoke  as  old  school-fellows,  became  more 
and  more  expressionless.  It  was  a  professional  mask 
again,  showing  little  movement,  except  in  the  bright  peer 
ing  eyes. 

"  I  thought."  Lord  Inch  went  on,  "  of  a  little  horse  ex 
ercise  with  the  boy  in  the  morning  before  the  Courts  sat, 
and  if  you'd  give  me  a  tonic,  that  would  probably  be  all  I 
need." 

"  Ah,  yes,"  Maitland  agreed.  "  Very  likely.  We'll  see 
presently.  What  more  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing,  I  think.  I  get  stupid  and  depressed  about 
nothing  nowadays.  I  don't  get  through  my  work  so  light- 
heartedly  as  I  did.  I'm  getting  elderly  and  rheumatic,  I 
suppose." 

"  What  makes  you  suspect  rheumatism  ?  "  asked  Mait 
land. 

"  Oh,  aches  and  pains,  you  know — aches  and  pains.  Old 
bones,  as  my  nurse  Macgregor  told  iis  bairns  in  the  nursery 
days.  You  never  knew  nurse  Macgregor  ?  She  was  before 
your  time,  Alec.  A  wise  woman  was  nurse  Macgregor." 

"  She  was  before  my  time,"  agreed  Maitland.  "  They're 
rare  cattle,  Inch,  are  wise  women.  Whiles  I  doubt  if  ever 
I  met  one,  save  my  mother.  Kheuinatism,  you  say.  Where 
does  it  catch  you  ?  " 


A  PROFESSIONAL  CONSULTATION  77 

"  Between  the  shoulders,  just  now  and  then,"  said  Inch 
shrugging  his  shoulders  as  he  spoke. 

"  Ay,  anywhere  else  ?  " 

"  It  runs  down  the  left  arm  a  bit  at  times,"  the  other 
explained,  "  and  it  seems  to  me  I'm  going  to  have  a  touch  of 
it  now." 

As  he  spoke  the  man  drew  himself  together,  staring  at  the 
doctor  with  a  look  of  unreasoning  dread.  His  face  was  con 
torted,  his  lips  ashy  pale.  He  seemed  terrified  to  move, 
even  to  breathe. 

The  doctor  watched  for  a  second  or  two,  and  then,  mov 
ing  quietly  but  swiftly  to  a  cabinet  in  a  corner  of  the  room, 
came  back  with  his  handkerchief  held  out  before  him. 

"  Smell  this  ! "  he  said  peremptorily,  and  held  it  in 
position. 

A  faint  smell,  as  of  pine-apples,  spread  through  the  room, 
but  for  some  moments  yet  there  was  no  difference  in  the 
man's  attitude.  He  still  clung  to  the  mantel-piece,  shrink 
ing  into  himself,  as  it  were,  before  some  vague  horror. 
Then  a  little  tinge  of  color  came  back,  and  grew  upon  his 
gradually  parting  lips.  He  took  a  deeper  breath,  and  even 
shifted  his  position  a  little,  as  a  man  might  who  had  felt  the 
ground  slipping  away  beneath  him,  but  now  hoped  it  might 
be  stable  once  more.  When  Maitland  saw  this,  he  wheeled  a 
sofa  before  the  fire,  and  then  slipped  an  arm  around  the 
other. 

"  You'll  do  now,"  he  told  him  quietly.  "  Lie  down  here 
awhile,"  and  helped  him  to  the  sofa. 

"  There,"  he  said,  "  it's  all  over.  Just  lie  quiet  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  don't  worry,  man.  Then  we  can  go  on  with 
our  chat  quite  well,  and  I'll  have  a  look  at  your  chest  where 
you  are,  as  a  matter  of  form." 

Lord  Inch's  forehead  was  damp  with  beads  of  sweat.  He 
felt  for  his  handkerchief  and  passed  it  across  his  face,  but 
did  nothing  else,  and  Maitland  did  nothing  to  disturb  him. 


78  MR.   PETERS 

"  Better  now  ?  "  he  said  at  last,  and  when  Inch  nodded, 
he  knelt  by  the  sofa,  and  began  deftly  to  loosen  his  clothing 
about  the  chest. 

"  I'll  just  run  you  over  and  have  done  with  it,"  he  ex 
plained,  and  examined  in  different  ways  with  the  quiet  and 
certain  touch  of  a  man  who  knew  exactly  what  he  wanted. 

After  that  he  rose  from  his  knees  and  sat  down  again,  a 
trifle  behind  Lord  Inch's  head,  looking  at  him  meditatively 
from  under  shaggy  eyebrows,  and  rubbing  the  side  of  his 
nose  with  the  right  forefinger,  which  was  a  trick  of  his  when 
perplexed. 

"  All  right  now  !  "  he  suggested. 

"  Yes,"  Lord  Inch  answered,  and  moved  as  if  to  get  up, 
but  a  hand  on  his  shoulder  kept  him  back.  "  I  am  all  right, 
am  I  not  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  little  laugh,  turning  his  head 
to  see  Maitland's  face.  He  might  just  as  well  have  looked 
at  the  fire,  burning  quietly  in  the  grate,  or  at  the  opposite 
wall.  The  face  was  wooden,  impenetrable,  stolid. 

"  I  wouldn't  say  that  quite,"  Maitland  told  him.  "  You 
might  go  off  and  do  something  fair  daft  on  the  strength  of 
it.  Laddies  of  our  age,  Inch,  mustn't  take  up  football,  or 
mountaineering,  at  a  moment's  notice.  Not  many  fellows 
are  as  right  as  they  once  were,  at  your  age  and  mine." 

"  I'm  only  fifty,"  said  Lord  Inch  pettishly.  "  I  don't 
want  to  play  the  fool  at  football  or  anything  else,  as  you 
know  perfectly  well,  Maitland.  As  for  that,  I  met  Erle- 
stoun  last  night  at  the  club,  and  he  told  me  he  was  tramp 
ing  his  moors  after  grouse  for  a  month  beyond  the  Twelfth  ; 
played  a  salmon  for  two  hours  and  a-half,  too,  and  landed 
him.  Why,  the  man's  seventy  if  he's  a  day  !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  Maitland  agreed.  "  That's  true  enough. 
But,  mind  you,  he's  done  that,  or  more,  since  he  was  seven 
teen.  You  and  I  couldn't  afford  that,  Inch,  then,  so  we 
pay  extra  for  it  if  we  try  now.  Man,  all  I  want  is  for  you 
to  take  it  a  bit  easy  for  awhile." 


A  PROFESSIONAL  CONSULTATION  79 

"  Is  it  anything  more  than  rheumatism  and  liver  ?  "  de 
manded  Lord  Inch,  sitting  up  and  facing  round. 

"  I  won't  say  but  what  they  might  have  a  great  deal  to 
do  with  your  bothers,"  said  Maitland  cautiously,  "  but  you 
must  treat  them  with  respect  for  awhile.  Take  life  easy, 
man,  and  take  notice  you're  under  doctor's  orders  for  the 
time.  Does  your  work  press  upon  you  ?  Could  you  put  it 
aside  this  winter  ?  " 

"  I  should  yawn  myself  to  death,"  Lord  Inch  said  fret 
fully.  "  I  shouldn't  know  what  to  do.  Besides,  between 
you  and  me,  who'd  do  my  work  in  the  Division  ?  There's 
Doune  and  Sauchie,  the  Lord  knows  they  aren't  over 
worked,  but  you  know  them — and  the  President  looks  to 
me  to  read  up  most  of  the  heavy  cases.  Between  ourselves, 
as  men  of  the  world,  do  you  suppose  they  could  do  more, 
or  at  least  do  it  as  the  public  expects  and  demands  it  should 
be  done  ?  There  will  be  some  stiff  Jury  Trials  before 
the  Christmas  Recess.  I  can't  think  of  putting  work  aside, 
.Maitland." 

"  Ay,  there's  no  one  like  our  bonnie  selves,"  muttered 
Maitland,  but  Lord  Inch  never  heard  him,  and  went  on. 

"  Privately,  too,  and  of  course  one  can  talk  frankly  to 
one's  medical  adviser,  there's  some  talk  of  a  Royal  Commis 
sion  coming  my  way.  That's  our  only  chance  of  promotion, 
Maitland,  and  I  mustn't  miss  it.  It  isn't  as  if  I  were  really 
ill,  you  know." 

"  Well,  well,"  Maitland  agreed.  "  You  do  as  I  tell  you 
for  the  time,  and  we'll  see  how  you  get  on.  I  shall  give  you 
a  call  in  a  day  or  two.  You've  things  pretty  much  your  own 
way  up  at  the  Parliament  House,  I  expect,"  he  suggested, 
smiling  grimly.  "  The  other  fellows  do  the  fighting." 

"  Yes,  just  so,"  and  Lord  Inch  laughed  dryly.  "  We  give 
away  the  prizes,  you  know."  He  paused,  and  then  spoke 
more  gravely.  "  My  heart's  in  it,  Maitland.  I'll  go  higher 
yet  if  I  get  the  chance,  I  tell  you.  Just  you  help  me  to  get 


80  MR.    PETERS 

rid  of  the  rheumatism  and  all  the  other  'isms,  and  you  shall 
see.  I  believe  it  would  kill  me  if  ever  I  had  to  resign.  But, 
of  course,  you  haven't  even  suggested  that." 

"  No,  no,"  Maitland  replied  hastily.  "  I  never  thought  of 
it.  But  just  care,  you  know,  and  keeping  clear  of  worry  and 
excitement  for  the  present.  No  personal  affairs  to  trouble 
you  ?  Of  course  not." 

"  No,  no.  Everything  cut  and  dried,  my  dear  Maitland. 
I  hear  my  cases,  and  draw  my  salary,  and  leave  everything 
else  to  my  clerk." 

"  That's  right  !  "  Maitland  nodded  approvingly.  "  Noth 
ing  like  business  habits,  so  I'm  told,  to  keep  a  man  clear  of 
bothers.  Never  had  business  habits  myself,  but  no  doubt 
they're  excellent  things.  I'll  just  make  a  note  of  a  few  sug 
gestions,  so  that  you  may  bear  them  in  mind,  and  I'll  see 
you  again  in  four  days  or  so,  after  you've  been  taking  some 
thing  I'm  going  to  prescribe." 

He  scribbled  at  his  desk  for  a  few  minutes,  while  Lord 
Inch  sat  and  stared  at  the  fire.  The  Judge,  to  give  him  his 
due,  was  not  a  timid  man  or  a  hypochondriac.  He  had  firm 
faith,  too,  in  his  old  friend  Maitland,  and  was  ready  to  place 
himself  unreservedly  in  Maitland's  hands. 

Something  else  was  occupying  his  thoughts  now.  Mait 
land's  remark  on  a  clean  record  brought  to  his  mind  what 
had  seldom  been  out  of  it  lately — the  lynching  of  five-and- 
twenty  years  ago.  It  was  significant  of  the  man's  estimate 
of  himself  that  he  never  doubted  but  what  he  had  been  the 
chief  agent  in  bringing  that  trial  to  its  unhappy  end.  This 
feeling  was  now  exaggerated  by  ill-health,  and  the  Judge 
felt  very  like  a  criminal. 

Maitland  finished  his  writing,  and,  slipping  the  paper  into 
an  envelope,  rose. 

"Now  that's  done  with  for  the  time."  he  announced; 
"  let  me  tell  Ross  to  bring  you  in  something  else  instead  of 
cold  coffee.  I'd  drop  coffee  and  cigars,  if  T  were  yon,  for  a 


A  PROFESSIONAL  CONSULTATION  81 

few  clays  until  you  see  how  things  go  on.  I've  not  told  you 
about  my  fishing.  No  fights  with  salmon  like  Erlestoun's, 
but  just  daundering  along  after  the  trout,  in  the  sweetest 
country  I  know,  man  !  Quite  good  enough  for  me  !  " 

"  Yes,  I'd  like  a  chat  well  enough,"  Lord  Inch  told  him, 
"  but  I've  some  papers  to  go  over  before  bedtime." 

"  Off  you  go,  then  !  "  said  Maitland.  "  You  must  keep 
good  hours  while  you're  under  my  thumb.  Will  you  drop 
in  again  on  Friday,  or  shall  I  come  round  and  have  a  yarn 
with  you  ?  " 

"  Come  round,  if  you  will,"  said  Inch.  "  Come  to  dinner. 
No  one  but  ourselves,  for  the  boy  will  be  out.  I  want  to 
show  you  some  things  I  picked  up  in  Venice." 

This  was  agreed,  and  they  moved  through  the  hall. 
Maitland  let  his  friend  out  himself,  and  stood  at  the  open 
door  watching  him  go  down  the  street. 

"  Threatened  men  live  long,"  he  muttered.  "  The  fellow 
lives  a  regular,  quiet  life  now.  It's  not  the  strain  of  his 
young  days,  and  I'll  keep  a  quiet  eye  on  him.  I'm  not  going 
to  frighten  the  man  into  his  grave.  I  can  say  a  little  more 
when  I  know  a  little  more.  Lord,  the  mistakes  I've  seen 
made — by  better  men  than  myself,  too." 

So  he  went  back  to  his  consulting-room,  and  sat  for  an 
other  hour  with  a  review,  which,  however,  he  often  laid 
aside  to  stare  at  the  fire,  and  rub  the  side  of  a  hawk  nose 
with  a  long  forefinger. 


CHAPTER  XI 

INTRODUCING  AN   OLD  ACQUAINTANCE 

IT  was  just  about  this  time  that  Alfred  Buncombe,  alias 
Augustus  B.  Bunner,  and  as  many  other  false  names  as  he 
had  sins  on  his  conscience — almost,  began  to  sigh  for  his 
daughter,  and  for  the  domestic  delights  of  a  home. 

Most  of  us  have  a  virtue  of  some  sort,  we  are  told,  and 
Alfred  Buncombe  had  such  faith  in  his  own  virtue  that  he 
always  believed,  and  particularly  insisted  when  maudlin- 
drunk,  which  was  often,  that,  with  better  luck  and  a  mother 
alive  to  look  after  him,  he  would  have  been  a  good  man. 
Since  vice,  one  knows,  is  strictly  confined  to  the  poorer 
classes,  and  folly  is  the  portion  of  orphans,  he  may  have 
been  right  in  saying  this,  but  I  never  heard  that  he  could 
get  anyone  to  believe  him.  From  the  time  when  he  had 
fled  from  Bonville,  twenty-five  years  ago,  he  had  been  an 
Ishmael  of  the  lowest  type,  a  sort  of  human  jackal,  whining 
and  snapping  alternately,  and  living  upon  whatever  he 
could  pick  up.  Not  that  his  degradation  began  anywhere 
near  that  date.  He  called  himself  an  Oxford  man,  on  the 
strength  of  having,  at  a  very  early  stage  of  University  life, 
been  ignominiously  hunted  therefrom  for  swindling  a  fel 
low-undergraduate. 

An  uncle  who  had  tried  to  help  him  before,  then 
promptly  closed  his  doors,  sending  Buncombe  a  check  for  a 
hundred  guineas,  with  a  note  to  the  effect  that  there  would 
be  no  more. 

The  last  of  the  guineas,  changed  into  dollars,  went  before 
he  was  stranded  in  Bonville,  and  soon  after  that  Buncombe 
took  to  stealing  horses,  because  he  had  special  facilities,  and 


INTRODUCING  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  83 

saw  nothing  else  to  steal  more  easily.  It  had  been  a  chance, 
which  he  really  thought  providential,,  that  had  put  the 
Swiss  into  his  saddle  where  the  little  Sheriff  found  him. 
For  Buncombe  had  turned  aside  to  rest  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  and  was  hidden,  gnashing  his  teeth  at  his  luck,  when 
the  honest  Swiss,  after  looking  in  vain  for  the  owner, 
mounted  and  met  the  Sheriff. 

After  that  escape,  Buncombe  came  across  the  Atlantic 
again.  Here  he  married  a  woman  very  much  better  than 
himself,  a  barmaid,  who  loved  him,  only  herself  could  say 
why,  and  who  supported  him  while  she  could.  Then  two 
years  after  Amelie's  birth,  finding  the  home  not  so  com 
fortable,  and  his  wife's  allegiance  divided,  he  got  what 
money  he  could  from  her  and  went  off  again.  He  had 
wandered  everywhere,  and  tried  all  dishonesty.  Port  Said 
knew  him,  and  so  did  Galle.  He  had  been  in  Cuba,  and 
once,  vain  hope,  had  expected  to  outdo  the  innocent  and 
unsophisticated  Maltee  in  ship-chandlering  on  his  own 
island. 

Twice  in  fourteen  years  he  came  home,  each  time,  as  was 
quite  natural  for  him,  under  a  false  name.  His  first  visit 
was  made  because  he  found  himself  in  Constantinople  with 
no  cash  and  less  credit.  So  he  shipped  to  London  as  a  fire 
man,  and  went  to  see  if  his  wife  was  any  better  off  than  he 
was.  She  hadn't  tried  to  marry  again,  though  ten  years  had 
passed.  Perhaps  her  first  experience  was  enough.  Bun 
combe  found  her  manageress  at  the  public-house  where  she 
had  been  barmaid,  and,  sponging  on  her,  lived  in  clover  for 
three  months.  He  stole  the  week's  receipts  from  her  one 
Saturday  night,  and  went  off,  leaving  her  to  replace  them 
from  a  little  store  of  her  own. 

Four  years  later  he  came  again,  believing  himself  to  be 
reformed.  He  had  managed  a  successful  swindle,  and 
would  see  what  could  be  done,  and  how  things  would  be  for 
him.  If  his  wife  had  saved  as  she  ought,  they  might  even 


84  MR.  PETERS 

think  of  a  business  in  a  small  way  for  themselves.  But  his 
wife  was  dead,  after  a  long  and  painful  illness  that  had 
finished  her  savings,  and  Buncombe  cursed  his  luck  again. 
'Melia  he  found  in  a  tobacconist's  out  Tottenham  way,  her 
mother  having  made  her  promise  never  to  enter  a  public- 
house  or  bar.  So  he  spent  a  pound  or  two  upon  her  ;  very 
little,  but  quite  enough  to  make  her  look  back  upon  her 
father's  appearance  as  if  he  had  come  in  a  shower  of  gold. 
Then  he  disappeared  mysteriously  and  suddenly. 

This  time  the  cause  had  been  more  urgent.  In  a  drunken 
row  in  an  east-end  of  London  bar,  where  half  a  dozen  were 
at  rough  and  tumble,  he  had  whipped  out  a  knife  and  killed 
a  man  who  was  struggling  and  swearing  on  the  top  of  him. 
The  man  suddenly,  with  a  jerk,  became  quiet,  and  Bun 
combe  disappeared  from  a  locality  where  he  had  never  been 
before,  and  never  meant  to  go  again. 

The  papers  said  that  the  murderer  was  unknown  to  the 
police,  but  that  they  had  a  clue — which  they  hadn't — and 
Buncombe,  after  waiting  a  twelvemonth  or  so,  being  sure 
that  his  name  was  not  known  anywhere  except  where  his 
daughter  was,  wrote  to  her.  If  he  had  any  virtue  at  all,  it 
was  a  sort  of  fondness  for  and  pride  in  the  girl.  So  he  wrote 
saying  that  she  must  address  to  him,  post  restante,  New 
York,  and  let  him  know  of  any  change  of  situation,  as  he 
had  been  called  away  to  take  part  in  a  splendid  speculation, 
and  would  corne  home  to  make  a  lady  of  her  soon. 

So  poor  'Melia  had  written  persistently,  though  she  got 
no  more  letters  in  reply,  and  read  such  novels  as  she  could 
get  hold  of,  to  keep  her  posted  in  the  ways  and  doings  of 
that  brilliant  society  which  she  was  some  day  to  surprise. 

Buncombe  got  her  letters,  however,  and  the  occasional 
Scotsman  which  came  with  them  after  'Melia  migrated  from 
London  to  Edinburgh.  He  had  access  to  and  taste  for  little 
literature  beside,  but  letters  and  newspapers  were  carefully 
read.  In  one  of  the  latter  he  had  seen  that  Hector  Inch, 


INTRODUCING  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  85 

Esquire,  advocate,  had  been  raised  to  the  bench,  with  the 
title  of  Lord  Inch.  He  remembered  Inch  perfectly  well, 
having  attempted  to  prey  upon  him  in  the  Bonville  days  on 
the  score  of  their  both  being  university  men,  and  he  won 
dered  if  this  Hector  Inch  could  be  the  same. 

If  so,  he  foresaw  possibilities,  but  a  sharp  attack  of  de 
lirium  tremens  cut  short  his  speculations,  and  when  he  came 
out  of  hospital,  the  task  of  merely  keeping  body  and  soul 
together  from  day  to  day  used  up  all  his  energy  for  some 
time. 

We  meet  him  now,  however,  in  New  York  in  flourishing 
circumstances.  By  a  stroke  of  fortune,  and  the  confiding 
nature  of  a  youngster  from  the  old  country,  Mr.  Buncombe, 
posing  as  a  land  agent  fond  of  a  quiet  game  of  cards,  has 
become  possessed  of  about  four  hundred  dollars.  This  hap 
pened  last  night,  and  therefore,  naturally,  this  morning 
finds  him  in  a  drinking  saloon.  He  drank  steadily  last 
night  ;  he  is  drinking  now,  chatting  with  the  bar-keeper, 
who  is  not  pressed  for  time,  and  making  maudlin  references 
to  his  dear  daughter  in  Edinburgh  whom  he  so  longs  to  see. 

"  Edinburgh  !  "  says  the  barman,  "  it's  ma  ain  toon  !  " 
and,  producing  a  Weekly  Scotsman,  with  the  suggestion 
that  he  may  like  to  look  at  it,  turns  to  serve  another  cus 
tomer. 

The  first  thing  that  Buncombe  sees  is  that  the  Courts, 
having  re-opened  after  the  vacation,  Lord  Inch  is  trying 
such  and  such  a  case,  and  then  and  there,  braced  to  the 
effort  by  the  four  hundred  dollars  and  a  series  of  stimulating 
drinks,  he  makes  up  his  mind  to  see  'Melia  again,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  find  out  what  he  can  about  the  past  history 
of  Lord  Inch. 


CHAPTER  XII 

MR.   PETERS   OFFENDS  A   LADY 

ME.  PETERS  had  not  thought  it  necessary  to  tell  'Melia 
that,  before  teaching  her  to  cycle,  he  had  to  learn.  That 
did  not  trouble  him.  He  had  every  confidence  in  himself  as 
perfectly  able  to  do  what  other  people  did,  and  he  was  not 
mistaken. 

The  morning  after  his  chat  with  'Melia  he  made  his  way, 
soon  after  breakfast,  to  the  Waverley  Market,  and,  going  to 
the  gallery  there,  looked  down  upon  the  picture  of  strug 
gling  humanity  that  presented  itself.  Here  were  learners 
in  all  stages  of  desperation  and  despair,  and  Mr.  Peters 
watched  them  with  grave  interest. 

A  stout  lady,  perspiring  and  breathless,  with  a  fixed  stare, 
and  hair  that  was  gradually  coming  down  and  separating 
the  false  from  the  true,  struggled  between  two  struggling 
supporters,  and  occasionally  overwhelmed  them,  while  sar 
castic  and  audible  comments  came  down  from  the  onlookers 
above.  One  or  two  men  in  knickerbockers  wavered  rather 
uncertainly  around.  Two  girls  in  irreproachable  costume, 
who  had  evidently  come  to  practise  together,  were  doing 
loops  and  curves  in  one  corner  with  astounding  earnestness 
and  solemnity,  and  a  child  of  thirteen  or  fourteen,  fair- 
haired,  and  enjoying  herself  tremendously,  was  whirring 
about,  frightening  everybody  but  herself. 

"  Yon  wumman  '11  dee  afore  she  rides,"  one  interested 
errand-boy  told  a  friend,  as  he  leant  over  to  watch  beside 
Peters.  "  Ten  days  she's  come,  regular,  an'  yon  lassie  here's 
been  five." 


MR.    PETERS  OFFENDS  A  LADY  87 

"  She's  no  fear'd,"  said  the  other,  craning  over  and  chuck 
ling  with  intense  delight  as  the  fat  woman  made  wildly  for  a 
pillar,  and  collapsed  under  the  gallery. 

"  Come  on  !  "  returned  the  first.  "  Wait  a  meenit.  Let's 
see  the  fat  wumman  again,"  pleaded  the  other,  and  they 
did  so. 

Mr.  Peters  listened,  and  laughed  when  they  went  away. 
Then  he  went  down  into  the  market,  and  the  man  in  charge, 
after  a  critical  survey  of  his  proportions,  picked  out  a  bi 
cycle  to  correspond. 

"  I'll  tak'  ye  in  hand  masel',"  he  explained,  but  Peters 
would  have  none  of  that.  He  moved  the  bicycle  backward 
and  forward  to  test  the  steering,  and  then  bestrode  it  with 
one  foot  on  the  ground. 

"  A  fall  will  not  hurt  me,  my  friend,"  he  told  the  fellow 
calmly. 

"  It's  the  bicycle  I'm  rnindin',"  the  man  explained  rue 
fully,  but  gave  way  at  last,  and  Mr.  Peters  began  his  at 
tempt. 

When  he  finished  half  an  hour  later,  it  was  as  if  he 
had  stepped  from  the  hot-room  of  a  Turkish  bath,  while 
every  prominent  point  in  body  and  limbs  was  sore  and 
every  muscle  cramped,  but  he  had  gone,  somehow,  in  the 
end  at  least  half  a  dozen  yards  before  falling,  and  he  was 
content. 

He  did  nothing  else  that  morning,  but  after  lunch  went 
down  to  Leith,  and  called  upon  Lucius  at  his  office.  The 
junior  clerk,  who  was  beginning  to  take  a  gloomy  view  of 
trade  generally,  as  autumn  drifted  to  winter  and  he  felt  the 
draught  more  keenly,  thought  that  his  master  was  engaged, 
but  Lucius,  having  recognized  Peters'  voice,  opened  the 
door  and  greeted  him  heartily. 

"  Come  away  in,  man,  come  away  in,"  and  Peters,  enter 
ing,  found  the  room  littered  with  invoices,  bills  of  lading, 
charter  parties,  letters,  and  telegrams. 


88  MR.  PETERS 

"  Business  is  brisk  ?  "  he  inquired  cheerfully,  and  Lucius 
shook  his  head  with  a  mournful  air. 

"  Man,  it's  fair  awful.  Prices  rising,  an'  business  pres 
sing  on  me  till  I  scarce  see  me  daughter  or  me  home  from 
one  Sabbath  to  the  next." 

"  That  is  good,"  suggested  Peters,  but  Lucius  was  not  so 
sure. 

"  After  all,"  he  told  him,  "  I  don't  know.  God  never 
meant  a  man  to  live  in  an  office  or  a  warehouse  either.  And 
it's  always  no  trade  and  no  money  to  spend,  or  you're  half 
killed  with  your  business  and  you've  no  time  to  spend  your 
money.  Begor,  it's  insufferable.  I'd  retire  an'  live  a  decent, 
quiet  life  if  'twasn't  for  the  girl.  A  little  farm  in  the  coun 
try.  Peters,  an'  a  cow  or  two.  That's  my  dream.  But  what 
can  I  do  for  you  ?  Money  ?  " 

Mr.  Peters  acknowledged  that  he  wanted  to  draw  some, 
and  Lucius  sent  the  junior  clerk  out  to  cash  a  check  for 
a  hundred  pounds,  which  the  junior  clerk,  naturally,  being 
cold,  set  forth  to  do  in  the  most  roundabout  way,  that  he 
might  have  the  benefit  of  exercise. 

"  Anything  else  ?  "  asked  Lucius,  while  they  waited  his 
return,  as  if  the  only  delight  of  a  busy  day  was  to  turn  aside 
from  business  and  serve  a  friend. 

"  Your  courts  of  law  are  again  open,  I  think  ?  "  asked 
Peters,  and  Lucius  said  they  were. 

"  Your  friend  Mr.  Dee  kindly  offered  to  show  me  all  those 
things,"  observed  Peters. 

"  He  did,"  said  Lucius,  "  an'  he's  a  man  o'  his  word  or  no 
friend  o'  mine." 

"  Where  would  I  find  him  ?  " 

"  Wearin'  out  the  floor  of  the  hall  up  there,"  said  Lucius, 
"  unless  he's  helping  an  unfortunate  man  to  play  pitch-an'- 
toss  in  the  courts." 

"  Pitch-and-toss  ?  " 

"  Ay,  pitch-and-toss  !  "   growled  Lucius,  who  had  lately 


MR   PETERS  OFFENDS  A  LADY  89 

carried  an  insurance  case  to  the  Parliament  House,  and  was 
still  wondering  whether  to  gain  a  case  might  not  prove  more 
expensive  than  to  let  it  alone. 

"  You  aren't  going  to  take  your  business  there  ?  "  he 
asked,  as  a  sudden  fear  for  his  friend's  sanity  struck  him. 
Peters  assured  him  that  he  would  not. 

"  I  wish  to  pay,"  he  repeated,  and  Lucius  once  more  ex 
pressed  admiration  for  such  a  desire. 

"  If  all  me  creditors  did  as  much,"  he  said,  "  begor,  I'd 
look  for  a  farm  to-day.  I'd  breed  honest  beef  an'  mutton, 
an'  see  to  me  education.  Man,  ye'd  be  shocked  to  know 

me  ignorance,  an'  the  books  I  haven't  read.    As  it  is 

He  stared  disconsolately  at  the  litter  of  business  papers,  "and 
shrugged  his  shoulders  apologetically. 

"  I'll  take  you  up  to  see  Dee  to-morrow  myself,  if  you 
like,"  he  suggested.  "  I've  got  some  fat  in  the  fire  there, 
an'  I  could  see  me  agent  then." 

Peters  expressed  himself  as  grateful,  but  was  unwilling  to 
trouble  Lucius. 

"  No  trouble  at  all,"  he  was  told.  "  I'll  wait  for  the  mid 
day  post,  an'  go  home.  Lunch  with  me  there  at  one,  an' 
we'll  go  up  an'  see  fools  fight  about  nothing,  an'  part  with 
good  money  after  that." 

Too  much  business  was  evidently  affecting  Lucius'  diges 
tion,  and  he  smiled  bitterly  as  he  proposed  this  cynical  form 
of  amusement.  He  was  equally  cynical  when  the  junior 
clerk  came  rushing  in  with  every  appearance  of  having  run 
all  the  way  to  the  bank  and  back. 

"  A  livin'  lie,"  he  told  Peters  confidentially,  "  that  I  keep 
on  for  the  sake  of  that  decent  widow,  his  mother,"  and 
Peters  left  him  shaking  his  head  bitterly  over  hypocrisy,  as 
he  settled  down  once  more  at  his  desk. 

As  for  Peters,  he  turned  away  towards  the  harbor.  It  was 
a  bleak  autumn  day,  after  a  night  with  a  keen  touch  of  frost 
that  had  silently  loosened  the  leaves  on  the  trees,  ready  to 


90  MR.  PETERS 

fall  with  the  next  wind,  and  the  wind  had  come — a  keen, 
blustering  nor'-easter,  that  was  bringing  down  the  leaves, 
shivering  and  whispering  inland,  and  heaping  up  the  waters 
of  the  Firth  of  Forth  against  the  quays  and  piers  of  Leith. 

Peters  sniffed  at  the  salt  air,  and  made  as  straight  against 
the  wind  as  the  turns  and  windings  of  the  place  would  let 
him.  The  smell  of  the  brine  stirred  him,  and  some  sea 
gulls,  beaten  inward,  and  screaming  as  they  went,  seemed  to 
call  upon  him  for  action.  The  keenness  of  the  air  did  no 
more  than  make  him  move  a  little  more  briskly  against  it, 
while  he  hummed  under  his  breath  some  quaint  tune,  of  a 
melancholy  sound  that  was  out  of  keeping  with  both  place 
and  weather.  Down  at  the  pier-head  the  sea  was  coming  in 
in  great  green  rollers,  that  broke  against  the  stones  and 
burst  into  spray,  which  the  wind  carried  far  inward.  A 
steamer,  a  mile  away  towards  the  open  sea,  was  plunging  out 
through  the  waves  in  a  way  that  washed  her  from  stem  to 
stern  every  few  minutes,  and  Peters  watched  her  for  some 
time  before  he  looked  closer  to  hand.  When  he  did  so,  he 
found  that  he  had  not  the  place  to  himself. 

A  woman,  in  a  small,  gray  Tarn  o'  Shanter  cap  and  a 
waterproof  cloak,  was  crouching  at  a  place  where  the  small 
lighthouse  broke  the  force  of  the  wind,  and  where  she  could 
lean  over  and  see  the  water  close  beneath.  She  had  neither 
seen  Peters  nor  heard  him,  and  she  bent  over,  apparently 
watching  the  dizzy  race  of  the  twisted  eddies  and  whirling 
bubbles,  until  his  voice  startled  her.  Then  she  turned  so 
quickly  that  she  lost  her  balance,  and  was  rocking  on  the 
edge  when  his  hand  steadied  her  again. 

It  was  Madge  Murray. 

"  How  you  frightened  me,  Mr.  Peters  !  "  she  gasped,  half- 
laughing  ;  "  I  thought  I  was  over  !  " 

"  A  little  more,"  said  Peters,  "  and  -  He  did  not 

finish  the  sentence,  but  looked  down  at  the  water  beneath, 
and  laughed  as  if  amused. 


MR.    PETERS   OFFENDS  A  LADY  91 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  laugh,"  Madge  told  him. 

"  What  if  I  had  gone  ?  Would  you  have  fetched  me ?  " 

She  spoke  lightly  enough,  but  watched  as  if  she  meant  her 
question  to  be  treated  seriously.  Peters,  however,  preferred 
to  think  it  a  joke. 

"  At  Mr.  Moriarty's,  where  I  had  the  honor  of  meeting 
you,"  he  told  her,  "  you  told  me  that  you  loved  new — what 
was  it,  sensations  ?  This  would  have  been  one." 

"Yes,  but  my  last,"  Madge  retorted  pettishly,  "if  you 
were  so  cowardly  as  to  let  me  drown.  A  big  man  like  you 
can't  be  a  coward,  surely  ?  " 

They  were  walking  down  the  pier  now,  and  she  turned  to 
look  up  at  him  coquettishly  as  she  spoke,  but  Mr.  Peters 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  What  is  a  coward  ?  "  he  asked,  and  Madge  stared  at  him. 

"  You  would  have  been  one  if  you  hadn't  jumped  after 
me  at  once,  without  hesitation,"  she  said  sharply.  "  But 
you  would  have  got  me  out,  surely  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  would  have  tried,"  Peters  allowed,  but  didn't 
seem  at  all  anxious  to  pose  as  a  life-preserver,  or  to  say  how 
far  he  would  have  gone  in  trying. 

"  You  can't  swim,  then,"  she  said  at  last,  as  if  that  could 
be  the  only  explanation  possible,  but  Peters  did  not  seem 
to  think  it  worth  while  to  deceive  her. 

"  I  swim  well,"  he  told  her  ;  "  I  once  swam  and  floated 
for  six  hours." 

"  Then,  of  course,  you  would  have  picked  me  out  like 
nothing.  How  exciting  it  would  have  been  !  I  almost  wish 
I  had  fallen  in,  if  it  wasn't  so  cold.  One  looks  so  bad  in 
wet  clothes  too." 

"  It  is  well  that  you  did  not,"  Peters  assured  her,  puffing 
calmly  at  his  cigar.  "  When  I  swam  as  I  tell  you,  it  was 
because  I  must  swim  or  drown.  Also,  the  water  wras  not 
cold.  There  is  always  a  danger  in  taking  out  anyone  who  is 
drowning." 


92  MR.   PETERS 

"  Which  means  that  you  would  have  stopped  where  you 
were,"  she  asked  indignantly.  "  Well,  I  give  you  credit  for 
frankness  and  courage  of  a  kind,  Mr.  Peters.  A  Scotsman 
would  have  been  afraid  to  say  that.  I  think  I'm  going  the 
other  way.  Good-afternoon  ! "  and  with  that  she  picked 
her  way  across  the  docks  in  another  direction,  while  Peters, 
after  bowing  politely,  went  on  undisturbed.  Once  he 
stopped  and  spoke,  though  there  was  no  one  near  him. 

"  As  if  a  life  mattered  !  "  he  said,  and  then  laughed  and 
passed  on. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

A  MEETING  OF  MINOR  POETS 

Lucius  was  discontented  after  dinner  that  night,  and 
failed  to  find  consolation  even  in  a  pipe  of  Dream  Mixture, 
taken  with  his  favorite  authors.  Nelly  also  was  somewhat 
depressed,  and  even  irritable.  She  sat  with  Lucius  in  his 
little  smoking-room,  and  darned  socks  in  melancholy  si 
lence. 

"  The  business,"  said  Lucius,  with  a  disconsolate  air,  "  is 
makin'  me  mind  a  blank  !  If  the  trade  don't  get  depressed 
soon,  why — I  shall  be  just  a  rich  uneducated  ass  !  Why 
don't  we  ask  some  one  in  to  brighten  us  up,  Nell,  my 
dear  ?  " 

"  I  don't  feel  that  I  want  brightening,  dad,  thank  you  !  " 
Nell  answered,  with  some  warmth,  and  Lucius,  surprised  at 
her  tone,  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth  that  he  might  look 
at  her  the  better. 

"  You  do,  though  !  "  he  insisted.  "  There  you  sit  with 
your  needlework  and  not  an  idea  in  your  head,  to  all  ap 
pearance." 

"  I've  an  idea  that  your  socks  have  got  to  be  mended," 
Nell  retorted,  and  held  one  up  to  prove  it. 

"  Nonsense !"  said  Lucius.  "  It'll  be  a  darn — not  a  sock, 
if  you  mend  that  !  Put  it  in  the  fire,  an'  get  me  fresh  ones 
to-morrow.  What's  the  good  of  your  father  slaving  his 
brains  into  a  batter,  if  it  only  ends  in  you  spending  your 
nights  mendin'  his  old  socks  ?  Where's  Tom  ?  " 

The  change  of  topic  was  so  sudden  that  Nell  may  be  ex 
cused  for  needing  a  few  seconds  before  she  could  switch  her 
thoughts  into  this  fresh  groove. 


94  MR.    PETERS 

"  Heading  in  his  own  rooms,  I  hope;  "  she  said  presently, 
"  but  I  don't  know.  How  should  I  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  should,"  Lucius  agreed.  "  He 
never  comes  here  now  to  tell  us  what  he  is  doing.  Why 
doesn't  he  ?  " 

The  darn,  which  she  persisted  in,  needed  all  Nell's  atten 
tion,  and  she  was  looking  at  it  critically  when  she  an 
swered — 

"  Perhaps  he  doesn't  come  because  I  told  him  he  came  too 
often,"  she  said  at  last. 

Lucius  gasped  in  his  chair. 

"  You  told  him  !  "  was  all  he  could  shout  at  first,  and  he 
snorted  and  choked  for  some  time  before  he  could  go  far 
ther.  "  Why  ?  " 

"  I  told  him,"  said  Nell,  speaking  with  great  distinctness, 
bending  towards  the  light,  and  examining  the  darn  more 
critically  than  ever,  "  that  any  young  man  who  was  worth 
anything  would  spend  his  evenings  working  for  his  exami 
nations,  instead  of  wasting  his  time  in  drawing-rooms." 

"  Quite  right,  1  daresay,"  allowed  Lucius.  "  Quite  right. 
But  you're  a  caution,  Nell,  you  are  !  You're  as  hard  as 
nails,  you  know.  Begor  !  it's  unnatural  in  a  woman  !  "  and 
poor  Nell  had  to  be  content  with  this  verdict  as  a  reward 
for  doing  what  had  been  disagreeable  enough. 

"  When  did  you  tell  him  that  ?  "  asked  Lucius  presently, 
after  a  few  pulls  at  his  pipe. 

"  About  a  fortnight  ago." 

"  He'll  need  a  night  off.  Send  a  note  round,  saying  that 
I  want  to  see  him,  Nell." 

"  When  is  he  to  do  his  reading,  dad  ?  " 

"  Double  tides  to-morrow,"  suggested  Lucius.  "  What's 
the  boy  done  to  you  that  you  should  grudge  him  a  pipe  with 
me  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  Nell  answered  him,  and  Lucius  was  more 
disgusted  than  ever. 


A  MEETING  OF  MINOR  POETS  95 

"  I  think  I'll  go  round  and  call  on  Mrs.  MacQuestra/'  he 
said,,  after  some  cogitation.  "  She  brightens  a  man  up  most 
amazingly." 

Now,  Mrs.  MacQuestra  was  the  widow  whom  Nell  ab 
horred,  and  the  effect,  to  Lucius'  secret  delight,  was  imme 
diate. 

Nell  went  to  his  desk  and  seated  herself  there,  with  the 
appearance  of  one  who  acted  against  her  better  judgment. 

"  What  shall  I  say  ?  "  she  asked  meekly. 

"  Say  ?  Oh,  you  needn't  say  anything.  I  don't  want  her 
round  here  disturbing  you.  D'ye  think  I'd  expect  a  lady  to 
leave  her  home  this  time  o'  night  for  me  ?  I'll  just  put  on 
a  decent  coat  an'  go  round.  She'll  make  me  as  welcome  as 
sunshine."  All  this  was  said  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  was 
driven  out  to  search  for  what  his  own  home  denied  him. 

"  I'm  writing  to  Tom,"  explained  Nelly,  her  pen  racing 
on  the  paper  as  she  spoke,  and  Lucius,  sitting  with  his  back 
to  her,  winked  at  the  fire. 

"  Oh,  just  tell  him  to  come.  'Twont  be  hanging  about  a 
drawing-room  to  smoke  a  pipe  in  here  with  me.  Tell  Jean 
to  bring  in  the  whiskey  and  the  biscuits  about  ten.  Bring 
'em  in  yourself  if  you  like,  an'  if  you  can  behave  decently  to 
the  poor  fellow." 

So  Nell,  who  saw  herself  dismissed,  wrote  a  dignified  little 
note,  saying  that  her  father  told  her  to  say  that  he  would  be 
very  glad  to  see  Mr.  Dunbar  for  a  chat,  if  he  was  not  too 
busy  to  come  round,  and  Tom,  deciding  that  he  was  by  no 
means  too  busy,  though  he  was  working  hard  enough  when 
the  note  came,  was  shaking  hands  with  Lucius,  and  looking 
in  vain  for  Nell,  a  few  minutes  later. 

"  Sit  down  there,"  Lucius  told  him,  pointing  with  his 
pipe  to  an  easy-chair  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  "  an' 
tell  me  what  you've  been  doing  that  you  never  came  round." 

"  Cramming,  sir,"  said  Tom,  taking  the  chair  and  Lucius' 
tobacco-pouch. 


96  MR.  PETERS 

"  Ay,  ay,  of  course  !     You're  a  lucky  young  fellow,  Tom." 

"  How  so,  sir  ?  " 

"  Look  at  me  ! "  said  Lucius  pathetically,  pointing  to  a 
comfortable  waistcoat.  "  I'm  a  business  man,  an'  me  life  is 
one  long  anxiety.  May  be  ruined  to-morrow  through  no 
fault  of  mine.  A  bankrupt,  sir.  A  dishonored  man,  with 
Nell  left  penniless  in  a  cold  world.  But  you  !  sir,  you  carry 
your  fortune  in  your  head  where  no  man  can  touch  it  ! 
Your  profession'll  keep  you  comfortably  wherever  you  go  !  " 

"  Glad  to  hear  it  ! "  muttered  Tom,  whose  spirits  didn't 
rise  easily  as  work  went  on.  All  he  said  audibly  was,  "  I'm 
not  a  professional  man  yet." 

"No,  but  Nell  tells  me  you're  hard  at  it,  and  you're  bound 
to  do  well.  Don't  tell  me  but  what  it's  a  sure  thing  for  any 
young  fellow  with  any  brains  at  all — if  he  works.  Work, 
Tom,  regular  work.  There's  nothing  like  it."  Lucius 
suddenly  recollected  that  he  had  called  Tom  from  work  that 
night,  so  he  added,  "  But  you  can't  do  without  a  night  off 
now  and  then.  So  don't  you  try  it,  my  boy,  or  you'll  break 
down,"  and  after  that  they  puffed  in  silence. 

"  How's  Miss  Nell,  sir  ?  "  Tom  asked  presently. 

"  She's  all  right.  She  owned  that  she  gave  you  a  wigging 
about  your  work,  Tom.  The  impudence  of  these  women  ! 
But  she  means  well,  I  tell  you.  Just  don't  take  any  notice. 
It's  a  way  she's  got  into  because  I  let  the  hussy  think  she 
can  do  what  she  likes  with  me." 

"  Awfully  good  of  her,  I  thought,  sir,"  stammered  Tom. 
"  I  believe  it  did  me  good.  I've  been  swatting  pretty  stiffly 
since." 

"  No  doubt  you'll  be  all  right,"  said  Lucius,  with  an  air  of 
certainty  assumed  most  readily  by  friends  who  know  least  of 
the  work.  "  Don't  overdo  it  though.  What  do  you  do  to 
amuse  yourself  now  ?  " 

"  Football  once  a  week,  and  a  good  walk  on  Sundays,  if 
it's  decent  weather." 


A  MEETING   OP   MINOR  POETS  97 

"  liight,  quite  right,"  agreed  Lucius.  "  Don't  miss 
church  I  hope,"  he  added  hastily  as  an  afterthought,  but 
didn't  wait  for  a  reply. 

"  You  can't  do  much  reading  outside  your  work,  of 
course  ?  "  he  allowed.  "  Some  of  you  scientific  fellows 
don't  care  for  it  either.  Now  that's  what  I  enjoy." 

"  I  do  what  I  can,  sir." 

"  H'm  !  Never  wrote,  I  suppose  ?  "  which  hit  Tom  on  a 
weak  point. 

"  I  never  did  what  you'd  call  writing,"  he  admitted,  with 
something  very  like  a  blush,  "  but  I  scribble  a  bit  now  and 
then.  Just  for  a  change  and  amusement  when  I  can't  get 
out." 

"  No  !  you  don't  say  so  !  " 

Lucius  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth,  and  putting  a 
hand  on  each  knee,  bent  forward  a  little  in  his  chair  to 
have  a  good  look  at  Tom. 

"  Who'd  ha'  thought  it  !  "  he  said,  with  a  frank  emphasis 
that  plainly  showed  it  would  never  have  occurred  to  him. 

"  You're  a  bit  of  a  critic,  then  ?  "  he  suggested,  half  turn 
ing  his  chair  towards  the  desk,  with,  at  the  same  time,  a 
keen  eye  upon  Tom. 

"  Well,  I  know  what  I  like,  sir,"  and,  satisfied  with  that, 
Lucius  went  to  his  desk,  and,  rummaging  therein,  brought 
out  rolls  of  paper,  which  he  carried  back  to  the  fire  and 
arranged  on  the  mantel-piece,  clearing  his  throat  as  he 
did  so. 

"  There's  a  man  I  know,"  he  told  Tom,  choosing  his  words 
with  great  deliberation,  "  who  amuses  himself  that  way  too, 
at  times.  Nothing  big,  you  know.  '  Trifles  light  as  air/  as 
Shakespeare  says.  At  least,  mostly.  I've  got  'em  to  read 
over  and  criticise." 

"  I'd  like  to  hear  them,"  Tom  assured  him,  and  Lucius 
said  that  he  should. 

"I'd  like  your  candid  opinion,"  Lucius  asserted.  "I 
7 


98  MR.   PETERS 

think  some  of  'em  are  pretty  good.  But  then  I'm  preju 
diced,  the  writer  being  a  man  I  know." 

"  Let's  have  a  specimen,  sir,"  suggested  Tom.  "  One  of 
those  you  think  best,"  and  he  leaned  back  in  his  easy-chair 
with  a  fine  air  of  impartial  and  critical  attention. 

Lucius  put  on  his  glasses  and  searched  among  the  papers, 
clearing  his  throat  again. 

"  I'm  no  reader,  you  know,"  he  said. 

"  Shall  I  read  them  myself  ?  "  asked  Tom,  but  Lucius 
declined. 

"  The  writing's  a  bit  difficult,"  he  explained,  "  and  I've 
got  used  to  it.  Here's  one  that's  better  than  some  of  the 
others,  but  I  won't  say  it's  the  best — 

"  When  Chloris  set  my  heart  ablaze 
With  saucy  looks  and  winning  ways, 
I  lost  my  sleep,  went  off  my  feed, 
And  clean  forsook  the  soothing1  weed. 
But  when  the  minx,  with  fleer  and  flout, 
First  quenched  the  fire,  then  put  me  out, 
I  filled  my  pipe,  '  Go  to!  '  said  I, 
'  I'll  smoke  Dream  Mixture  till  I  die!  ' 

When  Lucius  had  finished  this  production,  he  looked 
anxiously  at  Tom,  who  maintained  a  disheartening  silence. 

"  I  don't  know  that  it's  so  good  as  some  of  them,"  Lucius 
said.  "  Let's  find  another  !  " 

"  Wait  a  bit,  sir,"  Tom  insisted.  "  Let's  finish  them  off 
as  we  go,  if  you  want  my  opinion  on  them.  Do  you  mind 
reading  that  over  again  ?  " 

So  Lucius,  standing  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  read  it 
again,  with  more  emphasis  and  a  louder  voice. 

"  Who's  Chloris  ?  "  Tom  asked  at  the  end. 

"  It's  a  way  a  lot  of  them  had  of  calling  their  girls  Chloris 
and  Phyllis,  a  couple  of  centuries  ago,"  Lucius  explained, 
but  Tom  shook  his  head  cynically. 

"  Won't  do,  sir,  tell  your  friend.     It's  nineteenth-century 


A  MEETING  OF  MINOR  POETS  99 

stuff  people  want  now — if  they  can't  get  twentieth;  and  I 
wouldn't  call  that  '  went  off  my  feed  '  seventeenth-century, 
or  poetry  either,  would  you  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not,  perhaps  not,"  said  Lucius,  glaring  over  his 
spectacles  at  the  unconscious  Tom.  "  The  rest  is  better, 
isn't  it  ?  " 

"  '  I'll  smoke  Dream  Mixture  till  I  die  ! '  "  quoted  Tom 
remorselessly.  "  Sounds  awfully  like  an  advertisement, 
doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  my  man  meant  it  for  one,"  suggested  Lucius. 
"  Let's  try  another  !  Here's  a  short  one  ! 

"  Smoke!  since  a  finger,  stretched  to  touch  the  wheel, 
May  crush  a  moth,  or  make  an  empire  reel, 
Or  count  as  nothing.    Let  the  world  go  by, 
And  leave  the  playing  cards  to  those  who  deal." 

"  A  weak  copy  of  Omar  Khayyam,"  Tom  said  coolly. 
"  It's  better  than  the  last,  though.  Let's  have  another,  sir." 

"  Like  cures  like,  I  hear  them  say, 
Smoke  drives  other  clouds  away." 

"  Short,  and  to  the  point,  eh  ?  "  said  Lucius  anxiously, 
after  reading  this,  but  Tom  laughed. 

''  If  you  love  me  as  I  love  you, 
No  knife  can  cut  our  love  in  two," 

he  quoted.  "  Sounds  awfully  like  a  motto  out  of  a  Christ 
mas  cracker,  doesn't  it  ?  "  and  Lucius  waxed  honestly  angry. 

"  I've  seen  worse  things  in  print,"  he  said,  bringing  his 
hand  down  with  a  thump  on  the  mantel-piece. 

"  Have  you  ?  Where,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  incorrigible, 
while  Lucius,  not  able  to  trust  himself  to  speak,  tugged  at 
the  old-fashioned  bell-rope,  meaning  to  order  up  the  whis 
key,  and  brought  the  rope  down  upon  his  head. 

"  Ah,  you  should  have  electric  bells,"  suggested  Tom. 

"  Damned  tinkling  alarums  !  "  Lucius  declared  angrily, 
glad  to  have  a  topic  started  upon  which  he  might  speak 


100  MR.   PETERS 

freely  to  relieve  his  mind.  "  I  don't  want  to  be  reminded  of 
the  telephone  and  the  office  while  I'm  at  home  for  a  little 
quiet,"  and  he  wasted  several  matches  over  his  pipe,  to  cover 
his  perturbation. 

"  So  you  don't  think  much  of  those  things  ?  "  he  asked 
presently,  when  he  felt  cooler,  and  Tom  said  "  No;  the 
man's  a  penny-a-liner,  I  should  think.  Someone  you're 
wanting  to  do  a  kindness  to,  I  suppose,  sir.  I  know  you're 
always  trying  to  give  some  fellow  a  lift.  But  I  don't  believe 
that's  his  line.  Perhaps  they're  not  fair  specimens.  Evi 
dently  he  writes  them  to  order,  for  some  tobacconist  — 

"  You're  wrong  there  ! "  interrupted  Lucius  rashly,  but 
triumphantly.  "  He's  got  a  tobacco  business  of  his  own. 
A  sort  of  fad,  and  a  damned  expensive  one,  too.  He  thinks 
trade  advertising,  as  it  is,  a  disgrace  to  a  civilized  people. 
He's  doing  his  humble  best  to  give  the  thing  a  touch  of  the 
artistic;  that's  what  he's  doing,  and  he's  dropping  a  lot  of 
money  over  it,  too." 

"  Then  it's  a  failure  all  round,  sir,"  Tom  said,  with  blind 
obstinacy,  for  he  was  beginning  to  think  that  Xell  was  still 
vexed,  and  didn't  mean  to  see  him.  "  You'd  better  ad 
vise  your  friend  to  get  someone  else  to  do  his  rhymes  any 
way." 

"  Perhaps  you'd  do  them  ?  "  Lucius  suggested,  sarcastic 
ally. 

"  It's  not  in  my  line,  but  I  could  do  as  good,"  Tom  as 
serted,  and,  having  smoked  his  pipe  empty,  asked  if  he 
might  fill  it  from  Lucius'  pouch.  The  pouch  was  almost 
empty,  too,  and  Lucius,  going  to  a  cabinet,  took  a  fresh 
packet  of  Dream  Mixture,  and  tossed  it  over  to  him. 

"  Oh,  that's  what  we've  been  smoking  ?  "  Tom  asked, 
looking  at  the  wrapper.  "  Well,  I  will  say  I  wouldn't  wish 
for  better  'baccy,  anyhow,  whatever  the  rhymes  may  be. 

"  In  blackest,  starless  night,  and  darkest  day, 
Smoke!   and  in  smoke  your  care  shall  drift  away." 


A  MEETING  OF  MINOR  POETS  101 

"  Cynical  beggar  !  "  he  commented,  after  reading  this 
aloud.  "  Extravagant,  too  !  Seems  to  recommend  smok 
ing  at  all  hours.  I  wouldn't  give  a  rap  for  a  pipe  on  a  dark 
night." 

"  He's  had  his  good  times  an'  bad  times,"  Lucius  said. 
"  There  are  times  when  he's  cynical,  maybe,  an'  times  when 
he  isn't.  Now  you've  had  your  turn  at  cutting  him  to  little 
pieces,  I  suppose  you've  nothing  of  your  own  about  you 
for  me  to  hear  '{  There's  the  whiskey  coming,  an'  if  it's 
Nell  who's  bringing  it,  she  shall  be  a  judge  between  you 
and  me." 

It  was  Nell,  who,  being  able  to  choose  her  own  moment 
for  an  appearance,  was  far  cooler  than  either  of  the  two 
poets.  Still,  when  Lucius,  flourishing  a  bundle  of  papers 
at  her  as  she  came  in,  told  her  that  "  she  must  choose  be 
tween  himself  and  that  fellow  there,"  pointing  angrily  at 
Tom,  she  was  considerably  flustered,  and  so,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  was  Tom. 

"  We've  been  reading  rhymes,"  he  hastily  explained,  as 
they  shook  hands.  "  We  don't  quite  agree  about  them,  be 
cause  your  father  sticks  up  for  his  friend  who  wrote  them; 
that's  all  ! " 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Nell,  much  relieved,  "  father  was  shouting 
so,  that  I  thought  I  must  come  in  myself  to  see  what  was 
the  matter." 

"  Have  ye  got  anything,  Tom  ?  "  Moriarty  repeated. 
"  Of  course  ye  have,  if  ye  scribble  at  all  !  It'll  be  in  your 
pocket  there,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  bulge  shown  in  the 
breast-pocket  of  Tom's  coat. 

It  was  quite  true  that  there  were  verses  in  that  pocket, 
but  since  there  were  along  with  them  some  little  notes  from 
Nell,  thanking  him  for  books  lent  and  so  forth,  it  took  Tom 
a  little  while  to  get  the  verses  out  separate  from  everything 
else.  He  being  now,  as  it  were,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar, 
Lucius  the  judge,  with  a  theory  to  uphold,  and  Nell  the 


102  MR.   PETERS 

audience,  Tom  hesitated,  and  hemmed,  and  explained,  much 
as  Moriarty  had  done  hefore. 

"  This  is  a  little  thing  I  just  did  quickly  as  it  occurred  to 
me,"  he  told  them.  "  I  haven't  had  time  to  polish,  so  you 
mustn't  be  hard  on  it." 

"  Oh,  polish  it  while  we  wait  ! "  Nell  suggested,  as  if  it 
were  a  case  of  boot-mending. 

"  Go  on,  go  on,  man,  and  don't  mind  her  !  "  Lucius  told 
him.  "  She  doesn't  understand  the  art  o'  the  thing  at  all. 
There's  a  power  of  interest  in  sketches  which  you  won't  get 
in  oil  portraits,"  he  added  solemnly,  and,  nodding  his  head 
as  a  sign  for  Tom  to  read,  he  leant  back  in  his  chair  and 
closed  his  eyes. 

But  Tom  had  already  discovered  a  difficulty.  The 
rhymes  were  upon  Nelly.  Upon  what  other  topic  could 
they  be  ?  Her  name,  he  now  recollected,  came  in  in  the  very 
first  line,  and,  for  the  life  of  him,  with  Lucius  impatient  and 
Nell  curious,  he  couldn't  decide  on  another.  He  wanted 
two  syllables  to  replace  Nelly.  Moriarty  seemed  to  like 
Chloris.  Chloris  it  should  be;  and  he  started  off  in  desper 
ation — 

"  When  Chloris  goes  down  Princes  Street, 

I  walk  behind  and  watch  her  sadly, 
For  Chloris  looks  so  dear,  so  sweet, 

That  all  men  needs  must  love  her  madly. 

Oh,  sure,  some  day,  a  prince  will  come, 
With  castles,  lands,  and  heaps  of  money. 

To  bear  her  off  and  leave  me  dumb, 
With  Princes  Street  no  longer  sunny. 

Oh,  Chloris,  when  you  venture  out, 

For  go  you  will,  though  I  would  hide  you, 

Go  veiled,  and  then,  to  banish  doubt, 
Oh,  let  me  always  go  beside  you." 

"  Chloris  !  what  a  pretty  name,"  Nelly  said,  politely.  "  I 
don't  know  her." 


A  MEETING  OF  MINOR  POETS  103 

"  Ay  !  Who's  Chloris  ?  who's  Chloris?  "  Lucius  quoted, 
with  tremendous  sarcasm.  "  It's  out  of  date,  me  dear  boy. 
Two  centuries  ago,  at  least  !  It's  nineteenth-century  stuff 
we  want,  Tom,  if  we  can't  get  twentieth." 

"  Father  !  what  a  rude  thing  to  say  !  I'm  sure  they're 
very  pretty  verses.  Miss  Chloris  ought  to  feel  nattered. 
You  asked  him  to  read  them,  too." 

"  Why,  the  fellow  laughed  at  the  name  when  I,  that  is  me 
friend,  used  it  !  "  objected  Lucius.  "  Then  he  goes  an'  uses 
it  himself.  That's  what  he  calls  criticism." 

"  I've  changed  my  mind  after  hearing  it  a  second  time," 
Tom  explained.  "  I  think  it's  an  awfully  good  name  !  " 

"  You'd  heard  it  a  second  time  a  long  while  before  you 
said  that,"  Lucius  grumbled.  "  Of  course  it's  a  good  name. 
You  can't  use  everyday  commonplace  modern  names  in  good 
poetry.  Not,  mind  you,"  he  added,  in  haste,  "  that  I  say 
yours  is  good.  '  Heaps  o'  money,'  indeed  !  D'ye  call  that 
poetry  ?  It  ought  to  be  '  ruddy  gold,'  only  you'd  miss  the 
rhyme.  Whoever  heard  of  a  prince  carryin'  about  his  land 
an'  castles  with  him  ?  I've  heard  that,  even  if  they  want  to 
buy  an  evening  paper,  they  borrow  the  ha'penny  from  an 
aide-de-camp  !  Poor  divil  !  I  hopes  he  gets  it  back,  that's 
all.  What  was  I  talking  about  ?  Oh,  Chloris,  yes  !  An' 
everyday  names.  Now,  try  Nelly's  name  instead,  an'  see 
how  foolish  it'll  be." 

"  I  don't  know,"  Nell  said,  with  some  hauteur,  "  that  I 
care  to  have  my  name  put  into  poetry  that's  meant  for  a 
lady  called  Chloris  !  " 

"  Tut,  tut  !  "  Lucius  told  her.  "  Hold  your  tongue,  las 
sie  !  The  name's  not  copyright.  It  was  Mrs.  MacQuestra's 
name  before  it  was  yours." 

"  A  long  time  before,  I  should  think,"  Nelly  interpolated; 
but  Lucius  went  on. 

"  She's  the  Widdy,  you  know,  Tom,  that  you  met  here  at 
dinner  t'other  night.  A  decent  body  she  is,  too.  Faith, 


104  MR.   PETERS 

'twould  be  a  fine  notion  to  send  her  a  copy  with  my  compli 
ments,  and  what  did  she  think  of  them  !  Not  that  I  believe 
I  will,"  he  added  hurriedly,  thinking  from  the  way  Nell's 
foot  began  to  tap  upon  the  floor  that  he  was  going  too  far. 
"  She's  not  the  ear  for  music  a  woman  should  have,  so 
it's  likely  'twould  be  wasted  on  her — all  except  the  compli 
ment.  Come  on,  Tom,  put  in  '  Nelly '  and  if  my  Nell 
doesn't  like  it,  and  Mrs.  MacQuestra  can't  have  it,  why,  we'll 
call  it  Poetical  License,  and  no  more  said." 

So  Tom  read  the  thing,  amended  according  to  suggestion, 
with  great  warmth,  and  a  stolen  glance  or  two  at  Nelly,  who, 
being  naturally  not  interested,  except  in  a  friendly  way, 
about  verses  written  to  a  lady  called  Chloris,  whom  she 
didn't  know,  kept  her  eyes  upon  the  floor  and  studied  the 
carpet  pattern,  and  was  only  politely  complimentary  at  the 
end. 

Lucius,  however,  was  more  enthusiastic,  having  in  his 
mind  the  question  of  rhymes  for  the  Dream  Cigarettes. 

"I'd  like  some  more,  some  time,"  he  told  Tom,  "light 
love-making  sort  of  rhymes,  as  short  as  you  please,  to  show 
to  the  man  I  told  you  of.  Nelly  and  I'll  hear  'em  together 
now  and  then  when  you've  time.  We'll  educate  her  to  un 
derstand  poetry  and  enjoy  a  good  verse  yet,  Tom.  The  las 
sie's  ignorance  is  shameful." 

"  One  can't  get  time  for  everything,"  Tom  suggested, 
with  a  look  of  apology  at  Nell  for  even  listening  to  such 
blasphemous  accusations  against  her  perfection. 

"  I've  heard  you  say  that  Miss  Nelly  spends  all  her  time 
about  the  housekeeping,  sir.  I  expect  she  enjoys  real  poetry 
as  well  as  you  or  I  do." 

With  that  he  said  "  good-night  "  and  came  away,  after,  at 
Lucius'  request,  leaving  his  rhymes  for  further  criticism. 
One  result  of  the  evening  was  that,  when  Tom  came  across 
the  Dream  Mixture  elsewhere,  as  you  will  find  that  he  did, 
he  recognized  it  and  profited  thereby. 


A  MEETING  OF  MINOR  POETS  105 

Another  most  useful  outcome  was  that  Nell  straightway 
began  to  develop  a  strong  interest  in  Poetry,  so  called. 

To  such  an  extent  was  this  the  case,  that  she  quietly  lifted 
Tom's  verses  to  Chloris,  the  young  lady  whom  she  didn't 
know,  from  Moriarty's  desk  wrhen  she  said  "  good-night  "  to 
him,  and  studied  them  with  great  care  and  high  apprecia 
tion  before  she  slept.*  The  scrawl  bore  no  signs  of  "  Nelly  " 
having  been  substituted  for  "  Chloris,"  but  "  Chloris  "  was 
not  there,  and  "  Nelly  "  was,  which,  on  the  whole,  made 
them  perhaps  more  interesting. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

LUCIUS   IS   DIPLOMATIC 

NELLY  read  the  verses  again  before  she  came  down  to 
breakfast  the  next  morning,  and  either  because,  for  once  in 
a  way,  it  promised  to  be  bright  weather,  or  else  because 
she  was  amused  at  Tom's  marked  admiration  for  Miss 
Chloris,  her  face  was  full  of  dimples,  her  gray  eyes  full  of 
laughter,  when  she  seated  herself  to  pour  out  her  father's 
coffee. 

Lucius,  with  the  contrariness  of  man,  was  not  responsive. 
'Melia  was  weighing  upon  his  conscience,  with  the  little 
shop  and  the  kilted  Highlander,  the  Dream  Mixture, 
rhymes  and  all.  He  had  said  nothing  yet  to  Nelly  about 
any  of  them.  He  was  stubbornly  determined  that  he  would, 
because  he  wanted  her  to  help  him  with  'Melia,  but  he 
didn't  at  all  like  the  job,  though  he  couldn't  exactly  say 
why.  It  was  so  difficult,  he  felt,  to  explain  matters.  He 
scarcely  understood  them  himself,  and  affairs  were  as  they 
were,  through  a  chain  of  circumstances,  the  result  of  reason 
ing  on  his  part  more  ingenious  than  sound.  This  little 
speculation  in  tobacco  arose  from  a  dread  he  had  of  being 
too  much  wrapped  up  in  his  very  prosperous  and  well-man 
aged  merchant  business. 

If  Lucius  found  that  after  a  busy  day  he  was  not  always 
able  to  enjoy  and  to  decide  such  questions  as,  for  example, 
the  full  and  exact  meaning  of  "  Sordello,"  or  to  whom 
Shakespeare's  sonnets  were  addressed,  he  imagined  that  all 
finer  qualities  of  mind  must  be  blighted  by  office  work.  So 
he  sternly  set  himself  to  a  carefully  considered  course  of  the 
poets,  with  a  strict  avoidance  of  the  ballad-makers,  whom 


LUCIUS  IS  DIPLOMATIC  107 

he  liked  best,  and  a  special  attention  to  Browning  and  Shel 
ley  as  a  retining  influence,  lie  read  the  others,  but  not  as 
part  of  these  intellectual  gymnastics. 

Next  came  the  jotting  down  of  lines  for  himself.  Just 
for  exercise,  you  see.  Then,  alas  !  the,  at  first,  scarcely 
owned  wish  to  see  his  own  rhymes  in  print.  A  typewriter 
satisfied  him  for  the  time,  but  not  for  long.  Then  he  got 
verses  set  up  by  a  printer,  but  the  business-half  of  him  pro 
tested.  Here  was  sheer  extravagance  and  folly,  since  no 
one  but  himself  and  the  aforesaid  printer  saw  the  verses 
when  printed,  which  they  were  on  single  sheets  of  hand 
made  paper,  with  rough  edges,  broad  margins,  &c.  Then 
the  sophist  deceived  himself,  as  most  sophists  ingeniously 
do.  He  would  employ  his  fancy  to  some  profit;  harness  his 
Pegasus  and  make  it  PAY  ! 

The  idea  suddenly  came  to  him  in  a  London  tobacconist's. 
He  was  in  London  on  business,  and  dropping  in  for  a  cigar 
at  this  shop,  saw  Amelie  for  the  first  time.  She  served  him 
and  he  chatted  with  her,  as  he  chatted  with  everyone,  gentle 
and  simple. 

As  he  talked,  he  looked  at  the  colored  advertisements, 
some  funny,  some  commonplace,  some  vulgar. 

"  A  good  rhyme,  now,  round  a  cigar  might  please  a  man/' 
he  said,  tentatively,  to  'Melia;  and  'Melia,  thinking  of  a 
music-hall  refrain  that  had  taken  the  town  by  storm,  and 
was  remarkable  for  its  want  of  everything  but  jingle,  said, 
"  Yes,  sir  !  Oh,  cert'nly;  I  should  think  so  indeed  !  " 

"  Much  experience  at  this  sort  of  thing  ?  "  asked  Lucius, 
looking  round  him;  and  'Melia  told  him  that  she  had. 

"  Wages  ?  "  asked  Lucius,  confidentially;  and  she  told 
him  her  wages  too,  as  most  people  told  Lucius  anything  he 
chose  to  ask,  because  of  the  pleasant,  insinuating  Irish  way 
he  had  with  him. 

"  Xice  place  ?  "  he  asked  next;  and  'Melia,  having  found 
out  three  days  before  that  her  fellow  shop-girl  was,  as  she 


108  MR.   PETERS 

put  it,  "  a  nasty,  low,  treacherous,  backbiting  person,"  said 
with  emphasis  that  it  was  nut  a  nice  place,  not  by  no  means, 
and  that  she  thought  of  making  a  change. 

"'  Wait  a  month,  me  dear,"  Lucius  had  said,  in  a  fatherly 
way,  with  a  half-sovereign  as  retainer,  and,  taking  her  ad 
dress,  marched  off. 

Within  a  month  he  engaged  her  to  come  North,  and 
within  two  .months  she  was  installed  with  the  Dream  Mix 
ture  and  cigarettes  (which  really,  the  rhymes  apart,  were  ex 
cellent)  most  prominently  in  the  front,  with  various  better 
known  (though  of  course  less  deserving)  tobaccos  in  the 
background. 

Here  she  had  now  been  six  months,  and  Lucius,  sitting 
with  his  coffee  and  fish  growing  cold  before  him,  wondered 
how  to  explain  the  situation.  It  wasn't  business,  for  it 
wasn't  paying,  and  it  wasn't  being  pushed.  It  wasn't  char 
ity  to  'Melia,  for,  though  he  couldn't  entertain  the  idea  of 
dismissing  her  after  getting  her  North  from  a  situation 
where  she  would  very  likely  have  otherwise  stayed,  he  had 
really  sent  for  her  because  of  her  honest  ways,  and  presumed 
business  knowledge.  It  wasn't  a  fad  of  his  own,  a  mere 
extravagant  toy;  he  vowed  it  wasn't  that,  since  the  tobacco 
was  good,  and  sold,  when  anyone  would  buy  it,  at  a  fair 
profit. 

Nell,  watching  him  from  behind  the  coffee-machine,  won 
dered  what  was  wrong,  but,  being  experienced,  kept  her 
wonder  to  herself,  and  did  not  let  it  affect  her  appetite. 

"  What  with  business  extendin'  this  way  and  spreadin' 
that,  a  man  can't  eat  or  sleep  in  peace,"  Lucius  blurted 
out,  and  Nell  knew  that  she  was  to  hear  of  his  troubles  at 
last, 

"  Pass  your  cup  for  some  more  coffee,  dear,"  she  told 
him.  "  That's  all  cold,  and  so's  your  fish.  Help  yourself, 
and  give  me  a  little  bit  more,  and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

"  I've  got  a  young  woman  working  for  me  now,"  grum- 


LUCIUS  IS  DIPLOMATIC  109 

bled  Lucius,  doing  as  he  was  told;  "  she's  move  bother  to  me 
than  all  the  men.  It's  always  so  with  you  girls  !  " 

Nell  was  quite  unmoved  by  this  denunciation  of  her  sex. 

"  What  is  she  ?  "  she  asked.     "  A  typist  ?  " 

"  D'ye  think  I'd  have  a  girl  making  a  mess  of  my  corre 
spondence  ?  No;  she's  in  a  retail  trade." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  had  any  retail  trade/'  said  Nell, 
calmly.  She  was  quite  unaware  of  the  great  gulf  between 
wholesale  and  retail. 

"  What's  the  business  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  A  little  speculation  in  tobacco,"  Lucius  told  her. 

"  Well,  is  it  a  failure  ?  " 

"  Can't  tell  yet,"  was  all  he  would  admit.  "  I  can  afford 
it  if  it  is,  I  suppose.  The  girl  will  be  a  failure  though,  if 
she  isn't  seen  to." 

He  waited  to  be  helped  by  further  questions,  but  Nell 
said  nothing,  so  presently  he  repeated  it. 

"  An  utter  failure  she'll  be,"  he  said. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Nell.     "  Is  she  dishonest  ?  " 

"  D'ye  think  I'm  such  a  fool  in  business  as  I  am  outside 
it  ?  "  demanded  Lucius  angrily.  "  D'ye  think  I'd  choose 
dishonest  folk  to  work  for  me  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  then,  dear  ?  " 

"  The  place  is  goin'  to  be  the  ruin  o'  the  girl's  health  if  I 
don't  see  to  it,"  Lucius  blustered.  "  Here,  when  I  put  her 
in  there,  I  told  her  to  keep  the  same  hours  as  the  trade,  an' 
because  a  darned  little  tuppeny-ha'penny  place  near  opens 
at  half-past  eight  and  closes  at  eleven,  the  silly  fool  does  the 
same,  and  takes  a  Saturday  half-holiday  by  keepin'  the 
place  open  till  midnight  !  The  sitting-room,  if  you  can 
call  it  one,  gets  like  an  oven  too,  with  the  gas  and  the  fire. 
The  place  isn't  fit  for  a  girl  to  be  in  all  those  hours." 

"  Why  don't  you  close  it  ?  "  asked  Nell,  as  a  practical 
question,  but  that  only  made  Moriarty  worse. 

"  And  turn  the  girl  adrift,  I  suppose,"  he  asked  indig- 


110  MR.    PETERS 

nantly,  "  after  taking  her  away  from  another  berth  and 
bringing  her  from  London  ?  Is  that  all  you  can  suggest  ?  " 

"  May  I  go  in  and  see  her  ?  "  Nell  asked  quietly;  and  that 
being  what  Lucius  wanted,  he  gave  his  consent  with  a  fair 
amount  of  grace. 

"  If  there's  anything  she  ought  to  have/'  he  said,  "  you 
know  where  to  come  for  a  shilling  or  two.  And  if  you  can 
make  any  suggestion,  after  looking  round,  that  would  be 
likely  to  make  another  better  place  pay,  why,  I'll  consider 
it.  I'm  not  going  to  drop  the  thing,  mind  you,  once  for  all! 
I  can  make  it  pay  if  I  give  me  mind  to  it,  and  so  I  will.  It's 
a  fancy  of  mine,  and  I'm  not  going  to  throw  that  girl  over 
either.  She's  an  honest  lassie,  and  means  well.  Just  you 
dress  yourself  nice  an'  quiet,  so  as  not  to  seem  too  much  the 
patronizin'  fine  lady,  an'  look  her  up  this  morning.  She 
won't  be  busy,  and  if  anyone  is  there  you  can  buy  me  a 
packet  of  Dream  Mixture  Cigarettes.  I  want  Tom  to  try 
them  when  he  comes  in  again." 

So  Nelly  got  the  address,  and  her  father  gave  her  a 
smacking  kiss  and  went  off  to  his  work  in  high  glee. 

"  It's  the  easiest  thing  to  me  to  manage  a  woman  !  "  he 
told  himself  as  he  went  beaming  along.  "  It's  me  Irish 
blood,  I  s'pose.  Though  there's  nothing  else  I  can  put  a 
successful  hand  to  outside  of  the  office,  when  a  woman  is  to 
be  wheedled  into  thinking  she  wants  to  do,  ay,  and  will  do, 
what  all  the  while  you're  for  her  to  do,  faith  !  Lucius  Mori- 
arty,  you're  hard  to  beat."  And,  certainly,  Moriarty  had, 
and  has,  bless  him  !  a  most  persuasive  and  insinuating  way 
with  the  ladies,  even  when  he  seems  to  bluster  most  fiercely. 
Whether  the  dear  creatures  are  always  so  blind  to  the  way 
in  which  they  are  led  as  he  believes  them  to  be,  is  another 
question,  and  one  which  the  ordinary  unpersuasive  and  ob 
tuse  male  won't  pretend  to  decide.  Nelly  smiled  at  the 
recollection  of  bis  methods,  as  she  put  on  her  hat,  but  you 
will  recollect  that  she  began  the  day  smiling,  and,  having 


"  'i  SHA'N'T  SHAKE  HANDS'  " 


LUCIUS  IS  DIPLOMATIC  111 

started,  was  likely  to  keep  it  up  on  small  provocation  until 
bedtime. 

She  then  sallied  forth,  most  provokingly  and  enticingly 
charming,  and  if  she  wore  her  plainest  dress  that  morning, 
all  I  can  say  is  that  one  wouldn't  have  thought  it. 

As  she  went  along  Princes  Street  the  sight  of  a  long  row 
of  sandwich  men  made  her  positively  bubble  over  with 
mirth.  They  carried  boards  announcing  the  theatrical  per 
formance  for  that  night,  of  which  all  that  I  can  tell  you  is 
that  its  name  was  "  Chloris  !  "  The  coincidence  seemed  to 
strike  Nell  as  most  amusing,  and  the  way  she  smiled  over  it 
must  surely  show  that  she  had  no  jealousy. 

Presently  she  dived  into  the  back  lane,  which  I  absolutely 
refuse  to  give  a  name  to,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  guar 
dian  Hielander,  whom  'Melia  had  wheeled  out  upon  his 
stand,  to  get  the  benefit  of  fresh  air  and  attract  the  admira 
tion  of  passers-by. 

Nell  was  past  that  admirable  work  of  art  and  in  the  little 
shop  before  she  discovered  that  her  entry  was  mal  a  propos. 
Miss  Sophia  Amelie  Rivers  was  standing  well  back  from  the 
counter,  with  her  hands  resolutely  clasped  behind  her,  and  a 
most  scornful  countenance,  while  a  fair-haired,  rather  nice- 
looking,  but  melancholy  youth  vainly  stretched  a  hand  and 
an  arm  and  a  good  deal  of  his  body  across. 

"  No,  Mr.  Inch,"  Amelie  was  saying,  "  I  sha'n't  shake 
hands,  not  if  you  stay  there  for  ever.  You've  got  to  apolo 
gize  first!  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  Oh  !  -  — ,"  which 
last  was  caused  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  Nelly,  at  the 
sight  of  whom  'Melia  moved  forward,  and  Inch  drew  him 
self  up,  with  an  injured  expression. 

"  I — I  beg  your  pardon  ! "  Nelly  said,  quite  as  much 
disturbed  as  they  were.  "  I  mean,  I  want  a  packet  of 
Dream  Cigarettes." 

"  Yes,  miss,"  said  'Melia,  who  had  recovered  herself,  and 
now  was  strictly  business-like.  "  They're  very  mild.  As 


112  MR.   PETERS 

good  as  anything  in  the  market,  and  very  much  liked.  But 
you'd  save  upon  the  box  of  a  hundred.  Two-and-six  you'd 
save.  Mayn't  I  send  a  box  for  you  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,"  Nell  told  her,  with  rather  a  dignified 
air,  because  she  suddenly  felt  shy.  "  I  was  only  asked  to  get 
a  packet.  They're  for  my  father,  Mr.  Moriarty." 

To  young  Inch,  of  course,  this  name  meant  nothing; 
indeed,  he  hardly  heard  it,  but  it  meant  everything  to 
'Melia. 

To  be  caught  "  fooling,"  as  she  put  it,  by  Miss  Moriarty  ! 
She'd  think  that  was  the  way  poor  'Melia  spent  her  time,  but 
Nell  spoke  on  before  'Melia  could  imagine  what  to  say  or 
to  do. 

"  I'm  going  farther,  and,  if  I  may,  I'll  leave  them  until 
I  come  back,  can  I  ?  I  told  father  I  would  come  in  and  see 
whether  you  were  busy  or  not." 

"  It's  the  slackest  time  of  the  day,"  explained  'Melia,  with 
absolute  ignoring  of  Inch.  "  I've  nothing  to  do  if  you'd 
like  to  step  in  now,  miss,  and  she  moved  to  lift  the  curtain 
of  her  private  retreat,  letting  her  eyes  pass  over  the  embar 
rassed  youth  as  if  he  were  another  wooden  Highlander.  But 
Nell  was  already  stepping  to  the  door. 

"  I'll  come  in  again  in  about  half  an  hour,"  she  said,  nod 
ding.  "  I  can  finish  my  shopping  by  that  time,"  and  out 
she  went. 

"  Now  you've  done  it,  Mr.  Inch,"  'Melia  told  that  reckless 
young  man,  as  he  stared  after  Nell's  fluttering  skirts. 

"  Pretty  tale  my  employer'll  have  now  of  the  way  I  mind 
this  show  !  " 

"  If  you'd  only  shaken  hands  straight  away  it  wouldn't 
have  happened,"  he  retorted.  "  I  don't  know  what  I've 
done  to  be  treated  as  if  I  wasn't  fit  to  shake  hands  with  ! 
I've  tried  to  make  out  what  you  got  so  angry  about  last  time 
I  was  in,  and,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  don't  know." 

"Very  rude  you  were,"  retorted  'Melia,  "very  rude  in- 


LUCIUS  IS  DIPLOMATIC  113 

deed.  And  now  you've  made  things  worse.  I'm  a  woman, 
.Mr.  Inch,  if  I'm  not  a  lady,  and  if  you  can't  remember 
what's  due  from  a  gentleman  to  any  woman,  w'y,  you 
mustn't  come  here." 

"  I  swear  -  — ,"  the  boy  began,  but  'Melia  held  up  her 
hands  in  wild  horror. 

"  How  dare  you  ?  "  she  told  him.  "  You  sha'n't  swear 
here  anyway.  Go  away  at  once,  and  if  you  do  come  back,  let 
me  see  that  you've  learnt  how  to  be'ave.  I've  something 
more  to  do  than  listen  to  your  swears  !  " 

With  that  she  dived  behind  the  curtain,  and  there  stayed 
until  the  disconsolate  fellow  had  left,  after  which  she 
popped  out  again,  and  began  looking  around  to  see  if  any 
thing  could  be  made  to  look  better  before  Nell  came  back. 


CHAPTER  XV 

STRICTLY   ON   BUSINESS 

As  Nell  went  about  her  shopping  she  tried  to  think  what 
she  was  to  do  and  say  when  she  got  back  to  'Melia,  and  for 
the  life  of  her  she  couldn't  tell. 

She  had  imagined  that  'Melia  would  be  a  timid,  worn, 
humble  sort  of  creature,  who  would  need  protection  and  en 
couragement,  and  a  great  deal  of  cheering  up.  The  dubi 
ously  tinted  hair  jarred  upon  her,  and  so  did  the  shabby 
brown  velveteen.  It  was  hard  for  her  to  associate  these 
things  and  the  presence  of  the  melancholy  Archie  with  any 
thing  approachable.  If  she  had  found  'Melia  sitting  alone, 
in  a  rusty  black  dress,  and  shaken  by  a  hollow  cough,  her 
task  would  have  seemed  much  easier.  However,  Nell  was  a 
healthy,  practical  young  person  who  didn't,  as  a  rule,  worry 
much  over  stiles  before  she  came  to  them.  All  the  prepara 
tion  that  she  finally  made  for  her  return  call  was  to  invest  in 
half  a  dozen  big  feathery  yellow  chrysanthemum  blooms, 
and,  armed  with  these,  she  went  back. 

Now,  when  'Melia,  ten  minutes  before,  had  been  smooth 
ing  her  hair  and  surveying  as  much  of  herself  as  she  could 
see  piecemeal  in  some  four  inches  of  mirror,  she  had  longed 
for  a  flower  wherewith  to  adorn  herself  further,  or,  as  she 
put  it,  "  to  gild  the  gingerbread."  The  sudden  longing  in 
her  eyes,  therefore,  when  Nell  marched  in  with  the  chrys 
anthemums  was  unmistakable,  and  Nell,  like  an  able  gen 
eral,  saw  the  weak  point  and  assaulted. 

"  I  brought  these  for  the  shop,"  she  said,  holding  them 
out,  and  I  think  it  was  rather  a  tactful  thing  for  her  to  say 
"  shop,"  and  not  "  you." 


STRICTLY  ON  BUSINESS  Ho 

'Melia  gave  a  big  sigh  of  satisfaction,  and  pushed  them 
against  her  own  delighted  face. 

"  They've  no  scent  worth  mentioning,  you  know,"  Nell 
explained. 

"  I  know.  It's  the  soft,  feathery  feel  of  'em  I  like,"  'Melia 
told  her,  rubbing  them  gently  against  her  cheek.  "  Where 
shall  they  go  ?  " 

"  I  think  I'd  try  one  in  my  dress  if  I  were  you,"  Nell  sug 
gested,  "  that  is,  if  you  don't  think  the  small  yellow  one  is 
too  big.  It  will  show  well  against  the  brown  velveteen, 
won't  it  ?  Here,  I've  got  a  pin,  let  me  put  it  in  for  you  !  " 
and  she  pinned  the  smallest  flower  carefully  in  the  breast  of 
the  brown  velveteen,  while  'Melia,  to  whom  a  cabbage  would 
not  have  seemed  too  big,  was  loud  in  her  delight. 

"  It  brightens  up  the  place,  doesn't  it  ?  "  Nell  asked 
when  she  had  finished,  and  'Melia,  trying  to  get  a  glimpse  of 
the  general  effect  from  the  shadowy  reflection  in  a  glass 
case  on  the  counter,  said  that  it  made  all  the  difference. 

"  I'll  put  the  rest  in  water  at  once,"  she  decided,  and 
fetched  a  tumbler  of  water  from  behind  the  curtain. 

That,  however,  was  not  big  enough  to  hold  them  properly, 
and  at  last  she  poured  out  a  tumbler  of  water  for  herself  and 
put  them  in  the  jug. 

"  I  sha'n't  want  more  than  that  for  dinner,"  she  ex 
plained,  "and  I've  got  some  in  the  kettle  for  my  tea,  so  that's 
all  right.  I'll  take  'em  home  at  night  for  a  change  of  air." 

She  said  "  hair,"  through  an  over-conscientious  effort  to 
omit  no  aspirate. 

"  Where  is  your  home  ?  "  asked  Nell,  who  had  seated  her 
self  on  the  little  red  settee  opposite  the  counter. 

"  Out  Comely  Bank  way,"  'Melia  told  her.  "  It's  just  a 
room,"  she  explained,  "  and  I'm  not  much  in  it,  of  course. 
But  it's  respectable,  and  I  always  call  it  'ome,  because  that 
makes  it  seem  more  'ome-like. 

"  Won't  you  come  inside,  miss,  if  you're  going  to  stay  ?  " 


116  MR.    PETERS 

she  asked  hospitably,  pulling  aside  the  curtain.  "  It's  a  bit 
stuffy  in  here,  but  it's  quite  private  if  anyone  should  come, 
though  this  is  the  slackest  time." 

Nell  thanked  her,  and  went  in,  and  'Melia,  in  whisking 
round,  managed  to  get  a  satisfactory  glimpse,  in  the  four- 
inch  mirror,  of  the  brilliant  effect  produced  by  the  yellow 
chrysanthemum  upon  the  brown  velveteen.  Then  she  sat 
down,  necessarily  near  Nelly,  and,  folding  her  hands  in  her 
lap,  waited  for  further  developments. 

"  Mr.  Moriarty,"  Nell  said  presently,  "  asked  me  to  look 
in  and  consult  with  you  about  the  business.  It  isn't  pay 
ing,  is  it  ?  " 

'Melia  shook  her  head  dolorously,  and  acknowledged  the 
fault.  "  That's  a  fact,  miss,  though  I  do  my  very  best,  I  do 
assure  you." 

"  My  father  told  me  so,"  said  Nell,  "  but  he  thought  if 
we  two  talked  it  over  together,  we  might  hit  upon  something 
that  a  man  wouldn't  think  of.  Why  doesn't  it  pay  ?  " 

'Melia  frowned  anxiously  over  this,  and  shook  her  head. 
"  Them  that  comes,  comes  again,"  she  said;  and  perhaps  it 
was  the  thought  of  the  frequency  with  which  one  in  partic 
ular  came  that  made  her  blush  a  little.  "  But  there's  so 
few  comes  !  "  she  added  regretfully. 

"  Can  we  bring  them,  then  ?  "  was  Nell's  pertinent  ques 
tion.  "  Or  must  we  go  somewhere  else  to  get  them  ?  " 

"  Well,  this  place  hasn't  had  a  chance  yet,"  'Melia  de 
cided.  "  It's  only  six  months  open,  you  know,  miss.  Now, 
if  we  only  had  a  lot  of  sandwich-men,  down  Princes  Street 
every  day  for  a  week,  dressed  up,  you  know,  and  all  smoking 
hard — big  pipes  as  long  as  your  arm,  and  Dream  Mixture 
printed  back  and  front,  large  on  'em,  why  that  might  make 
a  difference.  But  your  pa  won't  advertise  !  " 

"  Not  that  way,  at  anyrate,"  Nell  decided.  "  But  can't 
we  make  the  place  look  brighter  ?  " 

"  A  coat  of  paint  !  "  suggested  'Melia,  getting  quite  ex- 


STRICTLY  ON  BUSINESS  117 

cited  over  these  plottings.  "  If  'twas  a  pea-green  outside, 
with  a  little  yellow  about  the  window,,  'twould  be  marked 
off,  as  you  may  say." 

"  Perhaps  dark  green  might  look  prettier,"  Nell  thought. 
"  You're  quite  right,  and  we'll  have  it  painted.  Then,  in 
side  ?  " 

'Melia  pushed  aside  the  curtain  and  looked  out  and  round 
her  critically,  trying  to  see  how  it  would  strike  an  outsider. 

"  Those  chrysanthemums  do  light  the  place  up  wonder 
ful,"  she  admitted.  "  Give  a  sort  of  tone  to  the  place,  don't 
they  ?  I've  never  seen  flowers  in  any  tobacconist's  I've 
served  in  before,"  she  added  dubiously.  "  I  don't  know  as 
it's  professional,  and  would  be  a  great  expense." 

"  If  we're  going  to  do  better  than  other  people,  we  must 
do  differently,"  Nell  announced,  with  a  dogmatic  air. 
"  You've  not  got  much  room,  though,  and  one  can't  always 
get  flowers.  What  do  you  say  to  a  tobacco  plant  there  in 
the  corner  ?  " 

'Melia  looked  at  a  sort  of  ornament  of  dried  tobacco 
leaves  that  hung  over  the  counter,  and  was  doubtful. 

"  They're  much  the  same  color  as  everything  else  in  the 
place,  aren't  they  ?  " 

"No,  no  !"  Nell  insisted,  taking  out  a  note-book.  "  Those 
things  are  dried — not  a  bit  the  same.  They're  a  splendid 
green,  with  pretty  flowers,  only,  I  don't  know  if  they'd  live 
here.  I'll  find  out  for  you,"  and  she  made  a  note  of  it. 

"  There's  another  thing,"  she  said,  "  that  my  father  told 
me  to  see  about — only  it's  not  so  easy.  lie  thought  the 
hours  were  longer  than  they  need  be." 

"  It's  that  mean  ijiot  'igher  up,  miss,  that  makes  me  do 
it,"  'Melia  explained,  warming  at  the  memory  of  her  griev 
ance,  and  letting  her  h's  go  to  ruin  in  consequence.  "  Mister 
Moriarty  brings  me  'ere,  and  this  is  wot  'oe  says,  says  'ee, 
'  I'm  not  up  in  this  trade,  an'  I  don't  know  the  ways  an' 
customs  of  it  yet,  but  you're  a  honest  lassie,  or  I'm  a  fool  ! ' 


118  MR.   PETERS 

'Ec  said  that  miss,  standin'  there  by  the  counter,  with  'is 
'and  in  'is  trowsies  pockets,  jinglin'  'is  money  free  'an  easy 
like,  and  I  says,  '  Thank  you,  sir,'  an'  feels  pleased,  'cause 
where  I'd  been  they  'sposed  one  was  natchally  not  to  be 
trusted." 

"  My  father's  honest,  of  course,"  Nell  said  with  pride, 
"  and  so,  of  course,  likes  to  be  trusted  and  to  trust  other 
people." 

"  'Taint  always  safe,"  'Melia  told  her,  shaking  her  head 
decidedly,  "  but  I  told  myself  'ee  'adn't  made  no  mistake  in 
me.  So  I  said,  as  for  hours,  I'd  just  find  out  an'  do  like  my 
neighbors,  an'  my  neighbor  is  that  ijiot  'igher  up." 

She  paused,  not  for  want  of  breath,  but  because,  suddenly, 
she  became  aware  that  she  was  excited,  and  had  dropped 
into  a  rapid  h'less  monologue. 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  Nelly,  who  didn't  understand.  "  What 
happened  ? " 

"  So  the  night  before  we  opened  the  shop,"  said  'Melia, 
speaking  slowly,  and  trying  to  be  correct,  "  I  came  round, 
and  I  watched.  At  nine,  up  went  the  shutters,  and  I  went 
home.  '  Nine,'  I  said,  '  it  shall  be,'  and  nine  it  was,  for  a 
week." 

'Melia  sighed,  and  being  roused,  muttered  something 
about  a  darned  little  fool,  which  Nelly  paid  no  attention  to. 

"  Why  didn't  you  keep  it  at  nine  ?  "  she  asked.  "  That 
seems  long  hours  to  me,"  and  'Melia  launched  out  again. 

"  The  little  man  that  keeps  the  place,"  she  said,  "  was 
curious,  an'  I  daresay  'ee  was  riled.  But  there  was  nothing 
to  see  from  his  place,  being  the  same  side,  so  in  slack 
times,  of  which  there's  plenty,  he'd  go  in  his  slippers  an' 
a  dirty  old  smoking  cap,  an'  take  a  look  at  our  place 
from  over  across.  I  seen  him  from  behind  the  'Ighlander 
often." 

'Melia  was  now  completely  carried  away  by  the  recital  of 
what,  to  her,  was  a  thrilling  tale.  Her  aspirates  had  gone 


STRICTLY  ON  BUSINESS  119 

hopelessly,  one  word  gliding  into  another  in  a  swiftly  mov 
ing  stream,  accompanied  by  appropriate  action. 

She  bent  forward  toward  Nell,  and  raised  a  dramatic 
hand. 

"  One  day,"  she  said,  "  'ee  came  in  !  " 

"  What  did  you  do  ?  "  asked  Nell,  and  'Melia,  seeing  that 
she  held  her  audience,  told  her. 

"  I  never  let  on,  not  I  !  '  Wot  can  I  show  you  ? '  I  ses 
to  'im— an'  'ee  larfed  !  !  " 

"  What  a  rude  fellow  !     Yes  ?  " 

"  It's  easy  to  see,"  he  told  me,  "  from  your  tongue  an' 
your  cheek,  where  you  come  from." 

" '  Well,'  I  says,  " '  I  ain't  got  no  nasty  Scot ,'  I 

mean,  that  is,  miss,  I  told  'im  that  was  quite  right,  for  I 
came  from  the  south.  Then  I  asked  'im  again  wot  I  could 
serve  'im  with.  '  I'd  like  to  know  how  you're  getting  on, 
my  dear,'  he  told  me  (one  doesn't  need  to  notice  these  men, 
miss,  they  knows  no  better),  and  I  told  'im  '  very  well,  in 
deed.'  '  I'm  the  proprietor  of  the  Divan  'igher  up,'  'ee 
says, '  an'  I'm  afraid  there  ain't  no  room  for  two.'  '  Oh  ! '  I 
says,  quite  innercent  like,  '  when  are  you  goin'  ? '  and  the 
little  ijiot  was  that  savage  that  'ee  turned  an'  went." 

Nelly  burst  out  laughing.  She  couldn't  help  it,  as  she 
seemed  to  see  the  owner  of  the  dirty  smoking  cap  depart; 
and  'Melia,  pleased  at  the  success  of  her  dramatic  recital, 
smiled,  and  then  became  gloomy. 

"  That  night,"  she  said,  "  that  shop  was  open  till  mid 
night,  tho'  'twas  Monday.  So  was  this." 

She  sat,  an  unconquered  Napoleon  brooding  over  past 
victories  and  future  fights,  while  Nelly  watched  her  curi 
ously.  The  girl  had  more  determination  than  Nelly  had 
thought. 

"  It  was  twelve  all  that  week,"  she  went  on,  "  an'  my  land 
lady  started  askin'  me  where  I  spent  my  evenin's.  '  I  spend 
'em  alone,'  I  told  'or,  '  and  if  you'll  be  so  good  as  to  bring 


120  MR.    PETERS 

your  work  and  spend  'em  with  me,  you'll  be  doin'  a  favor 
that  i  won't  1'orgit.'  So  she  came,  once,  and  no  more.  But 
she  was  satisfied,  an'  never  asked  no  more  questions,  not 
even  when  the  worst  came." 

"  It  was  bad  enough  already,"  said  Nell.  "  What  was  the 
worst  ?  " 

"  One  day  the  Smoking  Cap  came  bobbin'  in  again,  quite 
polite,  an'  asked  'ow  I  was.  '  Bloomin'  ! '  ses  I,  that  is,  very 
well.  '  'Ow's  yourself  ?  '  '  Oh,'  he  said,  grinnin',  wicked, 
'  I've  the  awfullest  toothache,  I  'ave.  I  can't  sleep  a  wink. 
So  I  shall  just  keep  my  shop  open  for  company.'  '  Funny  ! ' 
I  told  'im,  quite  cool.  '  You  an'  me  can  sympathize.  I'm 
suiferin'  from  insomny,  awful,  and  I'm  going  to  do  the  very 
same  thing  this  very  night.  There's  the  pleeseman,  an'  a 
lot  of  night  watchmen,  the  people  goin'  to  work  early  in  the 
ware'ouses,  not  to  mention  the  milkman,  which  is  a  girl  in 
this  street,  I  b'lieve.  We'll  make  our  fortunes  ! '  That  was 
the  end,  miss  !  " 

"  Quite  time,  I'm  sure,"  Nell  agreed.  "  How  did  it 
end  ?  " 

"  That  night  I  called  to  a  baker  boy  an'  got  'im  to  bring 
me  rolls  and  butter,  and  to  tell  the  milk  girl  to  bring  me  a 
penn'orth.  He  got  two  cigarettes  for  doin'  it,  and  I  thought 
I  was  right.  I  made  myself  tea  that  kept  me  so  on  the 
jump,  I  couldn't  wink  an  eye  for  fear  of  bein'  murdered  in 
my  sleep,  an'  I  kept  all  the  gas  turned  up,  and  a  good  fire, 
and  the  door  wide  open.  I  had  the  awfullest  book  that 
night,  with  five  murders  an'  two  suicides,  and  at  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  when  the  pleeseman  came  in  to  sec  what  was 
wrong,  I  screamed  an'  thought  I  should  ha'  died  !  " 

"You  silly  thing,"  said  Nelly,  not  unkindly  though, 
"  what  on  earth  was  the  use  of  it  all  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  to  be  bested,"  explained  'Melia.  "  Anyway 
that  ended  it  as  I  told  you.  *  Wot's  wrong  here  ?  '  says  the 
pleeseman,  an'  when  I  said  I  had  insomny  because  my  neigh- 


STRICTLY   ON  BUSINESS  121 

bor  had  toothache,  I  thought  he'd  'avc  died,  an'  serve  1m 
right  for  terrifyin'  poor  me. 

u  '  You'd  better  go  in  with  my  compliments  an'  ask  for  Is 
toothache,'  I  told  that  pleeseman,  which  he  did,  an'  pres 
ently  he  come  back.  '  You  kin  go  'ome,'  'ee  ses.  '  The 
toothache's  better,  an'  your  friend  had  a  warnin'  from  me 
for  leavin'  the  shop  open  to  thieves  while  he  was  snorin'  on 
his  bed.  He's  puttin'  up  his  shutters,  and  I'll  help  you  to  do 
the  same,  'cause  you're  a  plucky  one.' 

"  That's  what  he  said,  but  I'd  made  up  my  mind  to  a 
night  of  it.  The  tea  made  me  that  jumpy  I  couldn't  sleep 
if  I'd  wanted  to,  ever  so.  So  I  told  1m,  with  a  cheap  cigar 
for  his  trouble,  and  he  told  the  other  pleesemcn  he  met  on 
his  beat,  an'  they  told.  more.  I  got  eight  of  'em  in  for  a 
laugh  one  time  and  another,  and  the  inspector.  They  all 
bought  an  ounce  or  two  ounces  of  Dream  Mixture,  which 
one  told  me  I  ought  to  be  taking  myself,  and  I  got  one  or 
two  early  folk  too.  But  my  !  I  was  bad  the  next  day." 

"  You  silly  girl,"  said  Nelly  again,  but  she  said  it  so  that 
'Melia  didn't  mind. 

"  As  the  Smoking  Cap  didn't  come  bobbin'  round  next 
day,"  she  went  on,  "  an'  as  my  landlady  did,  I  just  got  her  to 
mind  the  shop  two  minutes,  while  I  called.  '  'Ow's  the 
toothache  ?  '  I  asked,  slipping  my  head  in,  an'  he  told  me  to 
go  to  —  —  blazes,  but  I  took  no  manner  o'  notice.  '  You're 
quite  right,'  I  told  him.  '  I  got  a  dozen  people  in,  'ow  many 
did  you  get  ?  '  -  Then  I  was  'bligcd  to  leave  because  Is  lan 
guage  wasn't  fit  for  a  lady  to  'ear.  "But  we  don't  keep  open 
after  eleven  now,  that  being  his  bedtime,  I  s'pose." 

"  You  aren't  going  to  keep  those  hours  either,"  Xelly 
said  as  she  got  up  to  go,  "  but  we  can't  decide  and  change 
everything  at  once.  I  may  come  in  for  another  chat  soon, 
mayn't  I  ?  " 

"  And  welcome,"  'Melia  told  her  with  emphasis,  and 
watched  her  out. 


122  MR.    PETERS 

As  Nelly  went  up  the  street  the  man  in  the  smoking  cup — 
a  miserable,  weakly  specimen,  was  standing  at  his  shop  door. 
Nelly  laughed  to  herself  as  she  thought  of  his  discomfiture, 
and  then  felt  cruel  because  he  was  so  utterly  overcome.  She 
became  lost  for  the  time  in  vague  speculation,  which 
touched,  without  her  being  aware  of  the  fact,  on  Free  Trade, 
Protection,  Competition,  Monopoly,  Co-operation,  and  a 
great  many  other  debatable  subjects.  But  her  thoughts 
ended  as  she  reached  home  in  a  resolution  to  see  'Melia  again 
very  soon,  and  find  out  how  matters  could  be  improved. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
'MELIA  HAS  PROSPECTS 

WHEX  Nell  had  gone,  'Melia's  first  movement  was  to  the 
little  mirror.  She  could  now  get  a  fair  idea  of  the  chrysan 
themums'  effect,,  and  she  studied  it  critically.  The  result 
was  a  smile  upon  'Melia's  face,  already  bright  after  her  ac 
count  of  the  Smoking  Cap  episode,  and  an  unexpressed  wish 
that  Archie  would  find  his  way  back.  Then  she  moved 
round,  dusting  a  box  here  and  a  tin  there,  critical  to  dis 
cover  dirt,  though  she  had  swept  the  whole  place  as  usual 
on  her  arrival. 

Then  she  went  back  to  the  chrysanthemums  in  the  jug, 
and  after  pulling  them  about,  and  arranging  them  in  dif 
ferent  ways  and  places,  at  last  took  the  comparatively  small 
one  from  her  dress,  and  replaced  it  by  the  biggest.  Then 
she  settled  down  to  a  book,  careful  at  the  same  time  that  the 
flower  shouldn't  be  crushed. 

She  was  thus  occupied  when  Mr.  Peters  dropped  in,  on 
his  way,  or,  strictly  speaking,  a  trifle  out  of  his  way,  to  lunch 
with  Lucius  according  to  appointment. 

He  complimented  her  elaborately  upon  her  decoration. 
"  Happy  chrysanthemum,"  he  told  her.  "  It  will  no  doubt 
live  forever,  at  least,  until  you  change  it  for  another,"  at 
which  florid  compliment  'Melia  beamed,  and  said,  "  Go 
along,  Cap'n  Peters  !  " 

She  had  persisted  in  giving  him  this  title  from  the  begin 
ning,  and  occasionally  asked  him  when  he  was  going  another 
voyage. 

Peters  looked  at  his  watch,  and  then  sat  down. 


124  MR.    PETERS 

"  One  little  cigarette/'  lie  told  her,  "  before  I  take  myself 
from  this  pleasant  place/'  and  he  took  one  accordingly. 

"  What  about  niy  bike  ?  "  'Melia  asked  presently,  after 
the  exchange  of  one  or  two  more  pleasantries. 

So  far,  her  experience  in  life  had  been  that  if  you  want  a 
thing  you  must  ask  for  it,  and  usually  ask  often.  So  she 
was  quite  prepared  to  remind  Peters  of  the  promised  lessons 
as  much  as  was  necessary.  In  this  case,  however,  she  did 
not  need  to  be  anxious. 

"  It  is  of  that,"  Peters  told  her,  "  that  I  come  to  speak." 

He  had  spent  another  hour  at  the  Waverley  Market,  and 
he  was  satisfied  that  four  or  five  hours  more  would  make 
him  able  to  ride  and  to  teach. 

"  Let  us  arrange  !  "  he  told  'Melia,  and  she  was  overcome 
with  gratitude. 

"  Why  you  trouble  'bout  teachin'  me  I  can't  think,"  she 
remarked.  "  'Tisn't  as  if  I  hadn't  a  young  man." 

"  No,"  said  Peters,  who  apparently  didn't  care  whether 
she  had  a  "  young  man  "  or  no,  which  rather  disappointed 
'Melia. 

"  Is  he  coming  ?  "  he  asked,  but  'Melia  said  "  Xo,"  tell 
ing  herself  that  it  was  no  lie,  and  that  whether  there  was 
one  to  come  was  quite  another  matter. 

"  When  I  can  bike,"  she  told  herself,  "  I'll  hire  one  to 
come  to  business  one  mornin',  if  I've  to  go  without  dinner 
for  a  week  to  do  it.  We'll  see  what  the  dirty  Smoking  Cap 
thinks  o'  that.  He'll  think  trade's  looking  up  !  " 

"  Let  us  say  Wednesday  morning,"  suggested  Peters, 
"  and  where  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  Lemme  think  !  "  said  'Melia,  reflecting.  "  I'd  like 
something  soft  to  fall  on  !  "  but  Peters  assured  her  it  was 
not  necessary. 

"  My  arm  is  strong,"  he  pointed  out  ;  and  'Melia  said, 
after  a  casual  look  at  that  muscular  limb,  that  there  wasn't 
a  doubt  of  it. 


'MEL1A   HAS   PROSPECTS  125 

"  Say  in  front  of  Fettes  then,"  she  decided.  "  There's 
room  to  flop  there,  isn't  there  ?  " 

Peters,  on  having  Fettes  geographically  placed  for  him, 
decided  that  there  was  room  to  flop. 

"  At  half-past  seven,"  he  suggested. 

"  Say  quarter  !  "  'Mclia  begged.  "  I'd  like  a  good  go 
while  I'm  at  it.  Maybe  you  won't  take  me  a  second  time. 
I  can't  make  out  why  you're  doin'  it." 

"  It  is  for  my  health,"  Peters  assured  her,  "  because  of  my 
fat." 

"  Well,  it  don't  matter  anyway,  Cap'n  Peters.  I  may 
bring  my  young  man  when  I  like,  mayn't  I  ?  "  and  Peters 
saying  "  Yes,  by  all  means,"  went  on  his  way. 

All  he  wished  was  to  keep  on  chatty,  intimate  terms  with 
'Mclia,  for  more  than  one  reason.  He  did  not  yet  know 
what  might  be  the  advantage,  but  Peters  was  quite  ready,  in 
a  slow  deliberate  way,  to  take  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  in  cer 
tain  directions,  with  a  small  possibility  of  return.  So  he 
went  to  lunch  with  a  good  appetite  and  a  consciousness  of 
time  well  spent. 

That  morning  was  fated  to  be  full  of  surprises  for  'Melia, 
and  the  kilted  gentleman  at  the  door  would  have  winked  if 
he  had  been  able  to  do  so,  as  one  person  after  another  turned 
uft  to  assist  in  'Melia's  astonishment.  She  had  scarcely 
settled  to  her  book  again,  after  clearing  out  the  corner  of 
the  shop  and  trying  to  imagine  Nell's  tobacco-plant  there, 
when  the  postman  came,  a  very  infrequent  visitor. 

"  Xame  of  Buncombe  ?  "  he  asked,  and,  on  'Melia's  nod 
ding,  threw  down  a  letter  upon  the  counter,  and  went  off 
to  distribute  other  sensations  of  various  kinds  along  the 
street.  If  it  were  permitted  to  moralize  while  'Mclia  gasped, 
one  would  like  to  consider  the  postman  for  awhile,  second 
as  he  is  only  to  the  angel  of  death,  in  the  t'atefulness  of  his 
mission.  But  since  'Melia  wasted  very  "little  time  in  gasp 
ing,  perhaps  one  had  better  follow  her  example,  and  leave 


126  MR.    PETERS 

the  postman  to  be  considered  from  various  points  of  view, 
without  our  valuable  aid,  by  those  who  care  to  do  so. 

'Melia  gasped,  first  because  letters  for  her  were  very  rare, 
and  if  the  postman  had  asked  her  name  she  would  almost 
certainly  have  said  Kivers.  Xext,  on  looking  at  the  letter, 
she  knew  the  writing  to  be  her  father's.  It  was  a  very  long 
time  since  she  had  heard  anything  of  that  estimable  person, 
though,  as  we  know,  she  had  tried  to  keep  him  informed  of 
her  own  movements.  She  opened  the  letter  at  once. 

It  ran  as  follows  : — 

"  MY  DEAR  DAUGHTER, — 

"  Fortune,  which,  as  you  are  aware,  has  been  against  your 
poor  father  all  his  life,  has  ceased  for  the  moment  to  frown, 
and  my  first  thought  is  of  my  child.  I  hope  to  reach  you 
soon,  after  a  few  days  which  I  must  spend  in  London  on 
business  [the  business  was  a  little  enjoyment,  while  his 
hands  should  have  time  to  recover  from  ten  days'  work  in 
the  engine  room] .  It  may  soon  prove  necessary  for  you  to 
arrange  to  give  up  your  menial  occupation  and  take  the 
position  suitable  for  your  father's  daughter.  But  that  must 
be  left  until  I  see  you.  I  will  write  again. — Your  loving 
father,  JOSHUA  BUNCOMBE." 

'Melia  read  this  once,  standing  there  behind  the  counter 
where  she  had  opened  it,  and  a  second  time  sitting  on  the 
sofa  behind  the  curtain.  Then  she  jumped  up,  and,  with  a 
shout,  executed  a  series  of  jigs,  that  only  ended  when  she 
had  knocked  down  a  jar  and  smashed  it  upon  the  floor. 

"  Now  you've  done  it  !  "  she  told  herself.  "  That  don't 
come  under  the  head  of  necessary  wear  an'  tear  !  "  and  she 
sat  down  a  little  subdued,  and  read  the  letter  again.  It  was 
vague  enough,  as  you  see,  but  a  great  deal  more  sanguine 
than  was  justified  by  the  possession  of  a  diminishing  four 
hundred  dollars.  The  fact  is  that  Buncombe  was  building 


'MELIA  HAS  PROSPECTS  127 

upon  what  he  thought  to  be  a  surer  foundation.  Imme 
diately  on  reaching  London,  which  he  did  with  a  clear  head 
owing  to  ten  days'  enforced  sobriety  and  physical  exercise, 
he  set  to  work  and  obtained  the  necessary  information  about 
Lord  Inch.  Old  files  of  papers,  and  a  pound  or  two  spent  in 
private  inquiry,  satisfied  him  that  there  was  an  interval  of 
twelve  to  eighteen  months,  in  the  judge's  early  life,  which 
had  been  spent  in  the  States. 

It  remained  to  be  seen  how  far  the  judge  cared  for  this  to 
be  remembered,  and  what  he  would  pay  to  have  it  forgotten. 
Here  was  a  widower  with  one  child  and  a  large  income. 
Buncombe  knew  his  professional  salary  to  a  shilling,  as  any 
one  could  who  wished,  and  guessed  also  that  there  must  be 
a  fair  amount  put  by  from  the  advocate's  fees.  A  part,  and 
a  large  part,  of  all  this  should  be  his  and  'Melia's,  he  prom 
ised  himself,  though  how  to  manage  this  he  could  not  de 
cide.  Yet  what  did  he  risk  by  meeting  Lord  Inch  ?  What 
did  Lord  Inch  know  of  his  share  in  the  business  he  wished 
to  recall  ?  In  what  capacity  should  he  appear  ?  All  these 
were  -important  questions  over  which  Buncombe  thought 
carefully  and  often,  with  cigars  and  curiously  compounded 
drinks  to  help  him.  The  drinks,  however,  were  taken  in 
comparative  moderation.  Buncombe  had  been  at  some 
trouble  to  make  himself  realize  that  he  really  must  be  care 
ful.  This  was  less  difficult  than  it  would  have  been  across 
the  water,  because  of  the  expected  meeting  with  'Melia. 

He  was  an  unmitigated  cur,  and  utterly  selfish  ;  but,  like 
a  great  many  such  people,  he  liked  to  create  a  good  impres 
sion,  when  that  did  not  involve  too  much  self-sacrifice,  and 
where  it  might,  in  the  end,  work  for  his  comfort.  Besides, 
he  was  very  anxious  to  stand  well  with  'Melia. 

After  all,  the  girl  was  his  child.  He  had  cared  for  her 
mother  so  far  as  he  could  care  for  any  one  besides  himself, 
and  'Melia  had  given  him  no  trouble.  "When  he  saw  her 
last,  he  had  posed  as  an  unfortunate  man,  worthy  of  a  much 


128  MR.    PETERS 

more  exalted  position  in  society,  who,  at  the  worst,  was  no 
body's  enemy  but  his  own.  That  character  he  was  very 
anxious  to  hold,  and  since  'Melia,  with  increasing  experi 
ence,  would  be  less,  easily  convinced,  Buncombe  felt  that  he 
must  be  more  careful. 

So  in  London  he  lived  a  not  outrageous  life,  and  to  pre 
pare  the  way,  not  seeing  how  it  could  harm  his  prospects  in 
any  case,  he  one  day  dropped  in  at  a  type-writing  office,  and, 
hiring  a  machine,  typed  for  himself  the  following  letter 
upon  the  unstamped  paper  which  he  had  been  careful  to 
bring  with  him. 

"  One  who  believes  that  he  had  the  privilege  of  meeting 
Lord  Inch  at  Bonville  twenty-five  years  ago,  promises  him 
self  the  pleasure  of  calling  when  in  Edinburgh." 

"  It  will  pave  the  way,"  he  said  to  himself,  and  decided 
that  in  about  a  week's  time  he  would  probably  go  north. 
After  that,  with  great  expectation  of  a  profitable  visit,  he 
wrote  to  'Melia  as  we  have  seen. 

Having  read  the  letter  three  times,  and  broken  the  to 
bacco  jar,  'Melia  didn't  know  what  to  do  next.  She  tried  to 
read,  but  her  own  prospects  were  so  much  more  uncertain 
and  interesting  than  those  of  the  heroine  (called  a  Blood 
stained  Bride)  that  she  put  the  book  down  again,  and  set  to 
thinking  of  them.  What  did  her  father  really  mean  ? 
What,  to  use  her  own  expression  as  she  thought  of  him,  was 
he  "  good  for  "  ?  Had  he  come  to  stay  ?  She,  of  course, 
could  not  help  thinking  of  his  last  sudden  disappearance, 
which  had  never  been  explained.  To  say  the  least  of  it,  he 
might  have  written  all  these  years.  She  went  to  the  door  at 
last,  and  hailing  a  child  that  played  with  a  rag  doll  upon  the 
opposite  pavement,  sent  her  for  a  sheet  of  paper  and  an  en 
velope.  Then  she  sat  down  and  wrote  a  letter  which,  if  not 
brilliant  for  spelling  or  composition,  was  at  least  sincere. 
It  did  not  please  her,  however,  when  finished,  and  she  won 
dered  why.  She  thought  it  seemed  stiff  and  cold,  and  then, 


'MELIA   HAS  PROSPECTS  129 

wondering  whether  it  would  please  her  father  or  make  her 
seem  silly,  she  stuck  in  a  row  of  crosses  for  kisses  at  the  end. 
What  she  said  to  the  Highlander,  as  she  stood  at  the  door 
waiting  for  some  one  to  pass  who  would  post  her  letter, 
really  showed  her  state  of  mind.  "  Our  Menial  Hoccupa- 
tion,"  she  confided  to  him,  with  considerable  emphasis, 
''  will  suit  us  very  well  for  the  time.  I'm  not  such  a  Jug 
gins  as  to  quarrel  with  my  bread  and  butter  till  I  sees  cake," 
which  tends  to  show  that  'Melia,  in  spite  of  her  foolish  lik 
ing  for  highly  imaginative  literature,  had  a  practical  side  to 
her  character,  and  knew  the  value  of  a  bird  in  the  hand. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  JUST   JUDGE 

WHEN  Peters,  leisurely  strolling  along  in  his  customary 
way,  at  last  reached  Moriarty's  hospitable  door,  he  found 
another  guest,  who  greeted  him  as  he  went  up  the  steps.  It 
was  Madge  Murray,  in  a  costume  which,  from  an  ignorance 
of  the  lady-tailor's  phraseology,  I  can  only  describe  as  strik 
ing.  If  the  word  "  hitting  "  be  permitted,  I  will  use  it  in 
stead,  since  a  singular  thing  needs  a  singular  word  to  define 
it.  The  colors  were  dark  blue  and  a  very  deep,  rich  red, 
which  showed  itself  in  what  I  suppose  would  be  called  a 
waistcoat,  in  the  facings  of  her  jacket,  in  the  underskirt,  in 
the  hat,  and  even  in  the  stockings,  where  the  short  skirt  let 
her  ankles  be  seen.  Red  showed  against  her  black  hair  ;  the 
whole  costume  emphasized  a  dark,  haughty,  self-conscious 
face,  that  itself  seemed  to  challenge  inspection. 

Peters  inspected,  therefore,  as  he  came,  but  showed  no 
sign  of  conclusion  upon  what  he  saw,  and  bowed  when  Miss 
Murray  condescended  to  notice  him. 

"  I  have  forgiven  you  !  "  she  announced,  holding  out  a 
hand,  and  Peters  thanked  her,  after  a  moment's  pause,  with 
just  the  least  appearance  of  having  been  on  the  point  of  ask 
ing  what  for. 

"  I'm  sure  you  would  have  done  it  if  necessary,"  she  told 
him,  and  Peters  said  "  Yes  ?  "  and  asked  if  she  had  come  to 
lunch. 

"To  meet  you,"  she  told  him,  as  the  door  opened,  "so 
you  must  be  more  polite,"  and  they  went  in  without  any 
promise  or  protestation  from  him  upon  that  point. 

Lucius,  who  had  come  home  in  time  to  hear  of  Nell's  in 
terview  with  'Melia,  was  in  great  form.  Madge  was  by  no 


THE  JUST  JUDGE  131 

means  a  favorite  of  his,  but  he  never  denied  her  good  looks, 
and  to-day  tried  to  atone  for  occasional  inward  doubts  of 
her,  by  open  admiration  and  complimentary  adjectives. 
She  was  a  butterfly,  a  poppy,  a  volcano,  and  a  comet  by 
turns,  according  to  him,  and  Nell  at  the  foot  of  the  table, 
and  Peters  at  the  side,  had  little  to  do  but  listen.  Peters, 
as  usual,  took  all  this  with  immovable  gravity,  but  Nell 
laughed  heartily,  partly  at  her  father's  extravagance,  partly 
perhaps  because  Madge  seemed  almost  inclined  to  take  him 
seriously. 

"  Miss  Murray  wants  to  see  the  Parliament  House  too, 
father,"  she  told  him.  "  Are  comets  admitted  ?  " 

"  Faith  then  they  are,"  declared  Lucius,  "  an'  tails  are 
provided  free  of  charge.  You'll  have  all  the  idle  boys  at 
your  heels,  Miss  Madge,  an'  that's  no  small  number  !  " 

"  But  a  volcano,  dad  !  " 

"  Ay,  I'd  sec  a  volcano,  or  an  earthquake  there,  with  all 
the  pleasure  in  life,"  Lucius  asserted,  "  specially  if  'twould 
undertake  to  swallow  up  the  lot.  Keep  clear  of  the  Par 
liament  House,  Peters,  as  you'd  keep  clear  of  h ,"  he 

paused,  stammered,  and  gasped  for  a  word  to  fill  the  sugges 
tive  gap,  until  his  eye  fell  on  his  plate,  "hot  potatoes — 
which  are  very  good,  too." 

"  It  is  hell  to  get  into,  I  have  heard,"  suggested  Peters, 
and  Lucius  told  him  heartily  that  those  were  his  sentiments. 

"  An'  hell  to  get  out  of,  too,"  he  said,  "  an'  all  the  divils 
up  there  with  their  own  fish  to  fry,  an'  nothing  else  ex 
presses  it,  savin'  your  presence,  girls  !  " 

"  Father,  father,"  said  Nell,  reproachfully,  "  what  about 
friends  like  Mr.  Dee  ?  " 

"  Oh.  here  a  one  an'  there  a  one  is  saved,  may  be,  in  spite 
of  himself,"  Moriarty  allowed  grudgingly,  leaning  over  to 
fill  Peters'  wine-glass,  "an'  the  judges  are  most  wonderful, 
I  will  admit.  How  such  good  things  come  out  of  Nazareth 
is  a  most  miraculous  providence," 


132  MR.   PETERS 

"  Your  judges,  then,  arc  all  just  men  ?  "  asked  Peters, 
curiously. 

"  Ay,  all  just  men  according  to  their  lights,"  Lucius  ad 
mitted,  "  tho'  what  they  may  think  when  they  remember 
the  scoundrels  they've  tried  to  keep  unhung,  an'  the  inno 
cent  folk  they've  made  to  suffer  one  way  and  another,  what 
they  may  think  Avhen  they  remember  these,  beats  me.  But 
maybe  they  don't  remember." 

"  Unless  they  are  reminded,"  suggested  Peters,  and  sat 
eying  his  wine  as  if  it  showed  him  something. 

"  We  may  come  then  ?  "  Nell  asked,  rising  from  the  table 
as  she  spoke. 

"  Ay,  you  may  come,"  Lucius  told  her.  "  Though,"  he 
confided  to  Peters  as  they  went,  "  what  a  couple  of  bonny 
lassies,  like  those,  want  up  there  is  a  conundrum.  Woman's 
curiosity,  I  suppose.  It's  strong  in  Madge  Murray  or  I'm 
mistaken,  and  she'll  go  her  own  way.  Let's  get  along  up 
there  at  once,  for  I've  to  be  at  the  office  again,"  and,  send 
ing  for  a  cab,  he  packed  them  into  it. 

Mr.  Dee  was  standing  with  his  back  to  the  fire  that  af 
ternoon  in  the  Parliament  Hall,  exchanging  anecdotes  of 
various  descriptions,  legal  and  otherwise,  with  his  fellows 
among  the  unemployed.  To  hear,  with  an  immovable  face, 
a  narrative  that  would  move  others  to  tears  or  laughter,  is 
most  excellent  exercise.  So,  also,  is  the  telling  of  a  point 
less  story,  with  the  air  of  one  who  knows  that  he  can  rely 
upon  your  common  sense  to  see  the  point  that  is  not  there. 

In  these  and  similar  intellectual  gymnastics,  Mr.  Dee  was 
engaged,  and  was  in  fact  at  the  critical  point  of  one  of  his 
very  best  -  — ,  "  and  she,"  he  told  them,  "  came  a  little 
closer,  so  close  that  I  could  see  an  inverted  image  of  Donald 
Dec,  advocate,  looking  sentimentally  out  of  her  splendid 
eyes.  '  And  they  told  me,  Mr.  Dee,5  she  murmured,  c  that 
you  legal  gentleman  had  no  hearts.'  * 

"  '  My  dear  madam,'  I  answered  her " 


THE  JUST  JUDGE  133 

"  By  Gad  !  there's  a  stunner  ! "  muttered  one  of  the 
younger  men,  whose  attention  had  wandered,  and  Donald 
Dee's  audience,  to  his  disgust,  turned  and  looked  across,  as 
one  man,  at  one  of  the  doorways,  where  dark  blue  and  rich 
red  stood  out  boldly  against  the  wall. 

Dee  himself,  to  avenge  his  shattered  romance,  with  lifted 
eye-glass  and  a  fixed  stare,  was  making  comments  more 
caustic  than  polite  upon  the  apparition,  when  a  familiar 
form  darted  forward  and  seized  his  hand. 

"  Here  y'are  then,  Dee,"  said  Lucius,  "  an'  here  we  are. 
Peters,  that  ye've  promised  to  show  round,  an'  the  girls 
who'll  show  themselves  round  if  ye  don't.  As  for  me,  I'd 
already  like  to  be  sure  I  knew  the  way  out  of  this  rat-trap  !  " 

"  Your  father's  always  ready  with  his  little  joke,  Miss 
Nell,"  said  Dee,  fluttering  forward,  and  wondering,  as  he 
went,  whether  his  wig  was  straight.  "  Mr.  Peters,  my  dear 
sir,  I  am  at  your  service,  yours  and  the  ladies',  but  I  can 
show  nothing  so  well  worth  your  attention  as  what  you  have 
brought  with  you  !  "  Bowing,  while  his  hands  gently 
rubbed  one  upon  the  other,  Mr.  Dee  pointed  the  compli 
ment  by  smiling  glances,  divided  between  Nell  and  Madge. 

Behind  him,  at  the  fireplace,  all  this  was  watched  with 
envy  and  disgust. 

"  Who  are  the  girls  ?  "  asked  one  young  advocate  of  a  fat 
friend  whose  eyes  were  immovably  fixed  upon  Madge,  not 
at  all  disconcerting  that  self-possessed  damsel. 

"  Don't  know,"  returned  the  other.  "  Wish  I  did  !  Can't 
that  dark  one  dress,  and  doesn't  she  fancy  herself,  hey  ?  " 

"  More  than  I  do,"  said  the  youngar  and  quieter  man. 
"  See  how  she  poses  !  The  woman  could  draw  every  eye  in 
the  place  without  blushing.  Give  me  the  one  in  gray  that's 
keeping  back  a  little.  I  wonder  if  Dee  wants  any  help  ? 
See,  he's  going  to  take  'em  round." 

This  was  true.  Mr.  Dee,  paying  special  court  to  the  red 
and  blue  that  swayed  so  graciously  towards  him,  was  expati- 


134  MR.    PETERS 

ating  upon  the  beauties,  architectural  and  otherwise,  of  the 
hall.  He  even  had  the  impertinence  to  wave  his  hand  in  a 
general  way  towards  the  little  group  he  had  left,  a  propos  of 
some  remark,  all  that  reached  their  eager  ears  being  some 
thing  about  pas  perdus. 

"  Nous  ne  sommes  pas  encore  perdus,"  muttered  the 
younger  man  who  had  spoken  previously.  Then  louder, 
"  Come  away,  Maclean,  I'm  going  to  do  some  reading." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  fat  man,  "  your  young  energy 
is  worthy  of  a  Sabbath  school.  What,  in  the  name  of  the 
Faculty,  are  you  going  to  read  ?  " 

"  Something,  anything  !  "  returned  the  other.  "  Even 
Dee's  stories,  and  yours,  pall  upon  one  after  a  time.  I'm 
going  to  find  something  dry." 

"  That  won't  be  hard  to  find  !  "  said  the  fat  man  imper- 
turbably,  and  turned  to  watch  the  red  and  blue  on  a  sort  of 
slow  triumphal  progress  down  the  hall,  with  a  simple  gray 
figure  almost  unnoticed  by  its  side. 

With  Dee  as  elderly,  black-robed,  bewigged  guardian 
angel,  they  wandered  here  and  there  unquestioned.  They 
lingered  on  the  threshold  of  that  sanctuary  sacred  to  wigs 
and  gowns,  and  gazed  through  the  glass  half-door  at  these 
sacred  paraphernalia  and  their  wearers,  while  Dee  pointed 
out  the  peculiarities  which  enabled  law  agents  to  decide  at  a 
glance,  and  from  side,  back,  half  or  quarter  view,  whether 
any  great  man  whom  they  wanted  was  to  be  found  there. 
They  looked  respectfully  on  the  tons  of  books  collected  for 
the  information,  solace,  and  delectation  of  the  Faculty  in 
its  library,  or  at  anyrate  all  seemed  to  do  so  except  Madge, 
who  devoted  herself  to  the  task  of  extracting  from  Dee  an 
offer  to  get  out  novels  for  her.  This  accomplished,  she 
yawned,  and  suggested  that  probably  some  of  the  Courts 
would  be  more  exciting. 

Dee  smiled  politely,  and  said  they  must  certainly  take  a 
look  in  somewhere. 


THE  JUST  JUDGE  135 

"  But  whether  we  stay  or  not,  my  dear  Moriarty,"  he 
declared  in  an  aside,  "  must  depend  entirely  upon  what  is 
doing/'  to  which  Lucius  agreed  with  a  grunt,  and  something 
muttered  about  a  pot  and  a  kettle. 

Nell  and  Peters  went  side  by  side,  neither  inclined  to  be 
very  talkative.  She  looked  more  at  those  who  were  likely 
to  be  clients  than  at  the  legal  part  of  the  crowd,  trying,  as 
she  went,  to  read  their  stories  in  their  faces,  and,  needless  to 
say,  failing  utterly.  For  the  idea  of  self-preservation  has 
taught  hypocrisy  to  the  more  sensitive,  while  a  good  many 
show  little  because  it  is  little  that  they  feel.  She  gave  up 
the  attempt  presently  and  looked  at  Peters,  curious  to  sec 
whether  he  was  interested.  It  was  difficult  to  tell.  His 
face  was  as  expressionless  as  ever — a  mere  placid  mask, 
showing,  if  anything,  a  sleepy  sort  of  indifferent,  easy  good 
temper. 

Dee  led  them  here  and  there  through  the  narrow  twisting 
passages,  "  as  crooked  as  the  law,"  according  to  Lucius,  and, 
opening  a  swing  door  now  and  then,  gave  them  glimpses  of 
the  Courts.  Here  three  placid  elderly  gentlemen  dozed 
side  by  side,  nodding  to  the  monotonous  voice  of  a  droning 
and  dreary  gentleman  in  wig  and  gown. 

In  another  court  four  other  judges  appeared  to  be  en 
gaged  in  a  trial  of  wit.  while  the  counsel,  on  his  legs  before 
them,  tried,  vainly,  to  edge  in  some  citations  of  legal  au 
thorities.  They  were  very  fierce  or  very  funny,  turn  by 
turn,  and  caused  vast  amusement  to  all  except  the  anxious 
and  unhappy  clients. 

"  It's  Truthful  James  and  the  Innocent  Abroad  at  it 
again,"  said  Dee.  "  They've  a  pretty  wit.  You  should  hear 
the  Innocent  presiding  in  breach  of  promise  cases  !  "  This 
was  to  Peters,  who,  when  they  began  visiting  the  Court 
rooms,  had  left  Xcll,  and  seemed  to  take  more  interest  in 
Dec's  explanations. 

"Who  are  the  judges  ?"    he  asked,  but  on  being  told, 


136  MR.    PETERS 

turned  away  again,  while  the  whole  party  was  hurried  out  by 
the  ever  vigilant  Dee,  who  had  scented  unsavory  disclosures 
from  the  witness  then  under  examination. 

He  led  them  farther,  and  then,  suddenly,  a  bright  idea 
seemed  to  strike  him,  for,  with  a  finger  on  his  lips  to  suggest 
silence,  he  turned  aside,  and,  pushing  another  door  open, 
went  tiptoe  up  a  few  steps.  Here  he  stopped  before  an 
other  door  of  green  baize,  with  small  glass  panes,  like 
bull's-eyes,  let  into  it.  At  this  door  he  turned,  and,  after 
an  extravagant  pantomime,  meant  to  insure  quiet,  but 
rather  provocative  of  laughter,  he  beckoned  the  nearest 
of  the  party  to  look.  The  nearest  was  Peters,  who  stepped 
forward  noiselessly,  and  peered  through  one  of  the  bull's- 
eyes. 

He  was  looking  into  another  Court  from  behind  the 
Judges'  dais,  the  spectators  facing  him.  Row  after  row  of 
faces,  showing  various  degrees  of  interest  and  intelligence, 
were  before  him,  gradually,  in  the  nearest  rows,  becoming 
lost  in  the  well  of  the  Court.  To  his  right  was  the  jury 
box,  in  which  were  fifteen  men  whose  faces  just  now  showed 
various  degrees  of  amusement  or  satisfaction,  because  a 
voice  inaudible  to  him,  whose  owner  was  not  visible,  assured 
them,  while  Peters  looked,  that  never  before  had  the  speaker 
addressed  a  jury  so  obviously  intelligent. 

Nearest  to  Mr.  Peters  upon  the  bench,  and  with  its  back 
to  the  door,  sat  a  solitary  figure,  immovable  and  shadowy. 
No  light  fell  upon  it  from  behind,  and  from  above  the  light 
was  excluded  by  a  heavy  oaken  canopy. 

"  A  criminal  trial,"  whispered  Dee  in  Peters'  ear.  "  Just 
drawing  to  a  close.  If  you  have  finished  looking,  Mr.  Peters, 
you  might  make  way  for  the  ladies." 

But  Peters  had  not  finished.  He  was  watching  the  heavy- 
robed  figure  near  him  that  just  now  had  turned  a  little 
side-ways,  showing  a  glimpse  of  a  long,  clean-shaven,  mel 
ancholy  face.  The  figure  leant  a  little  forward  and,  it  was 


THE  JUST  JUDGE  137 

evident,  addressed  the  fifteen  men  slowly  and  carefully, 
though  all  this  was  dumb  show  to  Mr.  Peters  at  the  bull's- 
eye. 

He  caught  Dee  by  the  arm  and  drew  him  closer,  without 
turning  his  head. 

"  Who  is  this  man  ?  "  he  asked  softly. 

"  The  Judge  ?  That  is  Lord  Inch.  As  keen  a  man  as  we 
have  on  the  bench,  Mr.  Peters.  We  call  him  the  Just  Judge. 
As  keen  as  an  east  wind,  and  as  impartial.  No  bamboozling 
him,  my  dear  sir,  as  we  all  know.  I  can  tell  you  some  good 
things  I've  heard  him  say  !  But  the  ladies  are  waiting,  Mr. 
Peters.  Miss  Murray  is  impatient.  Come  away  !  " 

Still  Mr.  Peters  did  not  hurry.  Lord  Inch,  emphasizing 
some  point  he  thought  important,  had  turned  still  farther 
in  his  seat,  and,  leaning  a  little  more  towards  the  jury,  was 
obviously  laying  down  the  law  with  great  care  and  delibera 
tion.  With  the  movement  the  keen,  sallow  face  leapt  from 
the  shadow,  and  stood  out  the  very  embodiment  of  clear 
sighted  justice,  and  Peters,  through  the  bull's-eye,  watched 
it  as  though  fascinated,  while  Dee  plucked  iiselessly  and 
fretfully  at  his  sleeve.  The  point  fully  emphasized,  Lord 
Inch  sank  back  again  into  the  shadow,  and  resumed  a  more 
conversational  manner.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  Peters 
obeyed  the  tuggings  of  the  peevish  Dee,  and,  stepping  back 
in  silence,  allowed  the  others  to  take  their  turn. 

That  was  the  last  of  the  sights.  Lucius  was  impatient  to 
reach  his  office,  and  seemed  to  breathe  more  freely  when 
once  quit  of  the  buildings,  and  outside  the  atmosphere  of 
the  Law.  Madge  was  longing  for  a  cup  of  tea,  and  in  her 
customary  way,  said  so,  openly,  with  special  directness  to 
Mr.  Peters.  He,  however,  had  suddenly  become  dull,  and 
suggested  that  she  would,  in  that  case,  be  glad  to  get  home. 
It  was  the  valiant  and  happy  Dee  who  sprang,  charmed,  to 
the  rescue,  and  begged  that  he  might  be  allowed,  as  a  reward 
altogether  out  of  proportion  to  his  services,  to  conduct  them 


138  MR.  PETERS 

to  Princes  Street,  which  he  presently  did,  to  the  plainly  ex 
pressed  disgust  of  the  fat  advocate  by  the  fire,  who  watched 
the  party  leave,  and  cursed  Dee  for  a  dog  in  the  manger  and 
an  elderly  reprobate. 

As  for  Peters,  gradually  dropping  behind,  and  getting 
mixed  in  the  crowd  as  he  stared  here  and  there,  he  presently 
was  separated  from  his  party  altogether,  and  made  no  great 
effort  to  find  them  again.  On  the  contrary,  he  wandered 
back  to  the  criminal  trial  at  which  they  had  last  spied,  en 
tering  this  time  by  a  door  at  the  far  end  from  the  bench. 
Here  he  stayed  through  the  summing  up,  the  verdict,  and 
the  sentence,  which  separated  a  man  from  the  outer  world 
for  seven  years.  Apparently  the  prisoner  fully  deserved 
what  he  got,  and  the  Judge  was  impressive  upon  the  patient 
relentlessness  with  which  justice  had  tracked  him  down  and 
secured  punishment  at  last.  "  Let  it  be  a  warning  to  all  !  " 
he  said,  and  then  rising,  while  all  others  rose  too,  he  went 
away  with  a  tired  face  to  his  robing-room,  and  thence  to  his 
carriage  which  waited  outside.  Among  the  many  loungers 
whom  he  passed,  as  he  stepped  into  the  carriage,  was  Mr. 
Peters,  who,  anxious  apparently  to  see  so  great  a  man  un 
robed  and  moving  as  an  ordinary  citizen,  stood  near  and 
watched  until  the  Judge  drove  away.  If  Mr.  Peters  had 
feared  that,  with  the  robe,  the  man's  dignity  would  be  laid 
aside,  he  could  now  see  that  his  fears  were  groundless.  The 
man,  off  the  bench,  was  still  unmistakably  a  noticeable  and 
memorable  figure,  and  made  a  vivid  impression  upon  Mr. 
Peters'  memory. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A    BICYCLE     LESSON 

A  GEEAT  deal  of  'Melia's  spare  time  during  the  next  few 
days  was  taken  up  in  the  preparation  of  a  bicycle  skirt. 
While  the  shape. and  cutting  were  under  consideration,  of 
course  the  skirt  took  up  all  her  thoughts,  but  when  the  mere 
stitching  began,  she  thought  a  great  deal  about  her  father. 

Nelly  found  her  at  work  the  next  time  she  came  in.  To 
speak  accurately,  she  found  her  brooding  over  it,  for  'Melia, 
as  she  humbly  acknowledged  to  herself,  was  "  fair  bested  " 
by  the  shaping. 

"  But  'taint  business,"  she  remembered,  and  laid  the 
thing  aside  to  consult  further  with  Nell  upon  the  means  of 
increasing  trade. 

Nell  came  in  to  let  her  know,  firstly  that  she  might  expect 
painters  the  next  morning,  and  secondly  that  a  plant  or  two 
were  on  their  way  to  the  shop. 

The  plants  came  whilst  Nell  was  there,  and  some  time  was 
spent  by  the  two  girls  in  shifting  them  round  from  place  to 
place,  in  order  to  judge  where  they  would  look  best. 

After  these  things  were  satisfactorily  arranged,  'Melia  in 
vited  Nell  to  take  a  seat  behind  the  curtain,  and  allowed 
herself  to  think  of  the  skirt  once  more. 

"  D'you  bike,  miss  ?  "  she  asked  anxiously,  and  was  dis 
comfited  when  Nell  said  that  Lucius  didn't  encourage  it. 

"  P'r'aps  Mr.  Moriarty  '11  object  to  me  doin'  it  ?  "  she 
suggested. 

"  lie  won't  dream  of  doing  any  such  thing,"  Nell  told 
her  decidedly.  "  He  told  me  already  that  you  didn't  get 
exercise  enough.  I've  got  a  pony  instead." 


140  MR.   PETERS 

"  If  you  don't  bike,  you  won't  know  anything  about  cut 
ting  the  skirt  ?  " 

«  Why  ?  "  asked  Nell.  "  Was  that  one  for  cycling  that 
you  were  working  at  when  I  came  in  ?  " 

"  Well,  in  a  way,  yes  !  "  'Melia  admitted,  "  not  that  I  was 
fairly  at  it.  I'm  stuck,  and  that's  the  truth,"  and  with  that 
she  leant  over,  and,  dragging  the  embryo  skirt  from  where 
she  had  thrown  it,  explained  her  difficulty. 

The  touch  of  nature  which  makes  the  whole  woman- world 
kin,  is  the  love  of  dress-criticism.  It  is  the  great  common 
interest,  and  Eve's  chief  misery  after  the  fall  was  probably 
based  upon  the  fact  that  her  fig-leaves  went  uncriticized. 
Nell  and  'Melia  grew  still  more  friendly  over  a  puzzling 
front-breadth,  and  Nell,  once  involved,  felt  the  responsi 
bility,  and  took  it  up  in  her  own  practical  and  masterful 
fashion. 

"  Leave  that  for  the  time,"  she  told  'Melia,  "  and  I'll  try 
to  let  you  know  all  about  it  to-morrow.  If  we're  going  to  do 
it.  it  must  be  done  properly,  Miss  Eivers.  I  think  there  are 
directions  in  a  ladies'  journal  I've  got  at  home,  and,  besides, 
I  believe  I  can  borrow  a  friend's  skirt  for  a  day." 

With  that  she  went  off,  but  she  came  in  again  the  next 
morning,  carrying  a  ladies'  journal  and  a  pattern  skirt,  bor 
rowed  from  Madge  Murray  for  the  day,  and  with  these  two 
aids  they  carried  out  the  operation  successfully. 

The  results  were  many.  One  of  them — very  important  in 
'Melia's  eyes — was  that  she  made  her  appearance  near  Fettes 
College  on  the  next  Wednesday  morning  at  seven  fifteen 
(she  was  there  really  at  seven),  knowingly  attired.  An 
other  result  was  that  Nelly's  liking  for  the  girl  increased 
with  further  acquaintance,  partly,  no  doubt,  because  one  of 
the  surest  ways  to  create  a  liking  for  anyone,  is  to  put  that 
person  under  a  small  obligation.  A  third  effect  was  that 
'Melia,  finding  Nelly  deft  with  her  fingers  and  quick- 
brained,  and  "  quite  the  lady,"  began  to  imitate  her  ways  in 


A   BICYCLE   LESSON  141 

dress  and  behavior — always  with  modifications  to  suit  her 
self — and  she  was  a  quick  learner.  After  all,  a  girl  who  had 
lived  alone,  first  in  London  and  then  in  Edinburgh,  and  still 
kept,  and  deservedly  kept,  her  self-respect,  had  already  shown 
a  restraint  and  modesty  that  in  better  circumstances  would 
have  stamped  her  at  once  as  a  lady.  There  are  very  few 
of  us  who  prove  ourselves  superior  to  our  surroundings,  but 
'Melia,  quick  to  recognize  a  better  standard  than  her  own, 
if  only  in  dress  and  manner,  promised  to  be  one  of  these  ex 
ceptions.  None  of  these  little  changes,  barely  begun,  pre 
vented  her,  of  course,  from  devoting  herself  to  the  "  bike  " 
light-heartedly.  'Melia  turned  up  at  Fettes  that  gray 
Wednesday  morning  early,  as  I  have  said,  and  openly  and 
excitedly  rejoicing. 

"  Thought  you'd  chucked  me  !  "  she  shouted,  as  soon  as 
Peters  hove  in  sight  on  a  lady's  machine.  "  I'd  have  given 
it  to  you  proper,  Cap'n  Peters,  if  you'd  brought  me  out  'ere 
for  nothing.  I  missed  my  second  cup  o'  tea  this  mornin'  for 
fear  of  bein'  late.  Let's  git  on  at  once.  I  b'lieve  you're  late." 

But  Peters,  dismounting,  looked  at  his  watch  and  de 
clared  he  was  punctual. 

"  Let's  git  on  then.    Ow  !  !  " 

'Melia  had  thrown  herself  recklessly  into  the  saddle,  and 
was  in  the  dust,  mixed  up  with  the  machine,  before  Peters 
knew  what  she  was  doing. 

"  You  are  a  silly  little  fool  !  "  he  remarked,  in  a  casual 
way,  raising  the  bicycle  and  looking  it  over  carefully,  while 
'Melia  struggled  unhelped  to  her  feet.  "  What  if  you  had 
broken  this  thing  ?  " 

"  Silly  fool  yourself,"  said  'Melia,  defiantly.  "  What  if  I 
had  broken  my  leg  ?  I  thought  you  could  hold  me  up,  of 
course  ! " 

Her  leg  was  smarting  pretty  badly,  and  the  tears  stood  in 
her  eyes,  which  rather  amused  Mr.  Peters  and  put  him  in  a 
better  temper. 


142  MR.    PETERS 

"  You  have  JOIIT  reward  ! "  he  remarked,  politely. 
"  Now,  try  again." 

'Melia  felt  for  a  moment  inclined  to  give  up  cycling  al 
together,  and  stood  frowning  indignantly  and  alternately  at 
him  and  the  innocent  machine.  But  the  one  was  as  indif 
ferent  as  the  other  to  her  frowns,  and  presently  she  became 
amused  and  began  to  laugh. 

"  Thought  '"twas  my  park  'ack  !  "  she  explained.  "  Let's 
go  slow  this  time,"  and  she  mounted  gingerly  under  Peters' 
direction. 

That  gentleman's  heart,  about  which  he  had  expressed 
himself  so  much  concerned,  was  fairly  well  tested  before 
the  lesson  was  over.  'Melia  was  no  feather-weight,  and  after 
her  first  tumble  was  forgotten,  which  happened  quickly  as 
she  grew  yet  more  excited,  she  flung  herself  about  des 
perately,  and  with  an  abandon  which  showed  a  most  com 
plete  and  complimentary  belief  in  Mr.  Peters'  strength  and 
endurance.  She  rode  at  impossible  angles,  screaming,  but 
going  ahead  nevertheless,  until  Peters  insisted  upon  a  rest, 
and,  mopping  his  forehead,  propped  the  machine  against 
the  railing  and  sat  down. 

"  My  ! "  said  'Melia,  surveying  him  with  interest, 
"  you're  fair  done  up  !  'Ow's  your  'art  ?  Don't  let  me  kill 
you  ! " 

"  Exercise  is  its  best  medicine,"  Peters  assured  her,  polite 
once  more,  and  panting. 

"  Glad  to  hear  it,"  said  'Melia,  "  for  that's  wot  you're  get 
ting.  Say  when  you're  ready  for  more  of  the  same  sort  !  " 

"  Five  minutes  !  "  entreated  Peters,  and  'Melia  waited, 
though  grudgingly,  remarking  that  her  time  was  short. 

"  Now,  then,  just  a  little  turn  !  "  she  told  him,  not  three 
minutes  later,  and  Peters  resisted  no  more. 

"  P'r'aps  I'll  be  able  to  get  help  for  you  in  a  few  days," 
she  told  him  as  they  started. 

"  Ah  !    Who  ?  "   asked  Peters,  thinking  that  the  fair- 


A  BICYCLE  LESSON  143 

haired  boy  from  Dnimshengh  Gardens,  whose  acquaintance 
he  intended  to  make,  might  have  volunteered. 

"  Oh,  there's  someone  besides  you  who'll  be  here  in  a  day 
or  two,  ready  to  give  me  a  hand,"  said  'Melia,  pedalling 
away  vigorously.  "  I'm  expectin'  my  pa  every  day." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then  'Melia  shrieked 
with  pain. 

"  Ow  !  "  she  yelled.  "  What  are  you  doin',  Cap'n  Peters  ? 
Oh,  stop,  do  !  My  fingers  !  "  for  Peters'  hand,  lying  over 
hers  upon  the  left  handle,  had  suddenly  closed  like  a  vice, 
and  the  pain  to  'Melia  was  unendurable. 

When  he  understood  what  was  the  matter,  Peters  helped 
her  off,  and  apologized  most  humbly. 

"  It's  fair  crushed  !  "  'Melia  told  him,  pitifully.  "  There's 
no  feelin'  in  it.  Were  you  taken  bad  ?  " 

"  My  heart,"  he  told  her.  "  A  sudden  pain,  and  besides  I 
thought  you  were  falling  off." 

"  Xever  was  nowhere  near  falling  off,"  'Melia  declared. 
'•  And  another  time  I'd  rather  fall  off,  if  it's  all  the  same  to 
you." 

At  this  Peters  expressed  his  penitence  once  more,  and 
?Melia  forgave  him. 

"  It's  time  to  stop  anyway,"  she  said,  "  and  now  I  come 
to  look  at  you,  you  are  a  bit  white.  Are  you  fit  to  ride  ?  " 

Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Peters  felt  all  right  again,  and  thought  he 
would  ride  in  to  his  breakfast.  So  he  bowed  ceremoniously 
and  wont  away  down  the  hill.  As  he  went,  Mr.  Peters,  al 
though  no  authority  on  Holy  Writ,  was  recalling  a  sentence 
heard  somewhere  long  ago,  about  casting  bread  upon  the 
waters,  and  was  more  than  satisfied  with  his  morning's  exer 
cise,  while  his  appetite  struck  terror  to  the  heart  of  Mrs. 
Jimps,  who  presided  at  the  breakfast-table,  and  watched 
his  forays  upon  the  dishes  anxiously,  from  behind  the  coffee- 
machine. 

But  'Melia  had  to  make  straight  for  the  shop,  though,  by 


144  Mil.    PETERS 

reason  of  a  small  and  hurried  breakfast  and  the  unusual 
exercise,  she  felt  already  hungry  again.  She  hurried  away, 
stretching  her  legs,  and  stepping  out  as  well  as  her  high- 
heeled,  pointed-toed  shoes  would  let  her,  with  a  hand  now 
and  then  placed  delicately  upon  her  right  hip,  which  began 
to  feel  stiff. 

"  I  shall  be  one  mask  of  brooses  to-morrow  !  "  she  told 
herself,  but  hurried  on  cheerfully  and  in  high  spirits  never 
theless. 

She  fancied  herself  very  much,  too,  in  the  short  blue  serge 
skirt,  and  began  to  wonder,  as  she  walked,  whether  Fortune 
had  smiled  sufficiently  upon  her  father  to  guarantee,  at  any- 
rate,  a  pair  of  cycling  shoes  for  her.  This  seemed  a  modest 
and  not  unattainable  piece  of  happiness,  and  she  wondered 
whether  white  shoes  could  be  worn,  or  whether  she  ought  to 
content  herself  with  brown.  This  she  would  consult  Nell 
upon,  when  a  time  came  for  her  to  choose;  meanwhile 
things  seemed  so  promising,  and  the  morning,  for  early 
November,  so  fine,  that  she  went  smiling  along  the  little 
back  street,  and  nodded  in  such  a  friendly  way  to  her  rival 
in  the  dirty  smoking  cap,  that  the  tobacco-dried  little  man, 
watching  her  as  she  hurried  by,  had  vague  feelings  of  lone 
liness,  and  went  back  into  his  hole  to  day-dreams  of  partner 
ship  and  mutual  profit,  with  enlarged  premises,  extended 
business,  and  some  one  to  pour  out  his  tea  for  him.  Mean 
while  'Melia,  pressing  on,  had  reached  her  place  and  gone  in. 
She  laid  and  lit  the  fire,  and  put  on  the  kettle,  declaring  to 
the  Highlander  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  shop-floor 
(whom  she  was  accustomed  to  address  disrespectfully  as 
Sandy,  or  Old  Man),  that  she  really  must  have  some  more 
breakfast.  Then  it  was  time  to  sweep  the  shop  out,  take 
down  the  shutters,  and  dust  the  jars  and  boxes,  after  which 
she  wheeled  "  Sandy  "  out  to  his  post,  giving  him  a  good 
dusting  that  he  might  look,  as  she  told  him,  like  a  "  shentle- 
man."  Then  from  the  tiny  press  she  hauled  part  of  a  loaf, 


A   BICYCLE  LESSON  145 

some  so-called  butter,  and  a  tea-caddy.  In  a  few  minutes 
she  began  feeding  ravenously,  while  her  foot  kept  up  a  con 
stant  tattoo  upon  the  floor,  because  she  was  still  in  such  high 
spirits.  Now  and  then  she  stretched  out  a  foot  and  surveyed 
an  ankle,  more  easily  seen  on  account  of  the  short  skirt. 
She  wished  Miss  Moriarty  would  come  in  and  tell  her  how 
the  skirt  looked,  and  all  the  time  she  was  drinking  and 
munching  away  vigorously,  wondering,  too,  when  Cap'n 
Peters  would  give  her  another  turn,  and  how  long  it  would 
take  before  she  could  ride  alone. 

Hunger  being  at  last  satisfied,  she  put  away  what  was  left, 
which,  she  noticed  with  some  self-reproach,  was  not  much, 
and  then,  everything  being  ready  for  customers,  she  sat 
down  again. 

Her  excitement  was  dying  away,  and  she  began  to  feel 
tired.  The  bruised  hip  made  itself  felt  a  little,  and  sitting 
in  the  tiny  room  behind  the  curtain  she  leant  back  in  as 
comfortable  a  position  as  the  old  settee  would  allow,  and  be 
gan  to  half -think,  half-dream,  with  closed  eyes. 

What  was  her  father  going  to  be  like  ?  What  would  he 
do  for  her  ?  Not  much,  she  expected,  for  'Melia  only  let 
her  fancy  run  riot  when  she  chose,  principally  while  read 
ing,  or  when  purposely  making  up  stories  for  herself,  as  she 
sometimes  did.  Then  fancy  was  legitimate,  and  she  met 
with  the  best  of  fortunes,  and  moved  in  the  highest  circles, 
principally,  of  late,  on  a  cream-colored  bicycle  with  all  the 
newest  improvements.  But  when  it  came  to  the  probable 
and  the  practicable  in  her  everyday  life,  and  for  her  every 
day  self,  'Melia  dismounted  from  her  two-wheeled  Pegasus, 
and  walked  undismayed  in  the  dust  of  a  workaday  world, 
and  it  was  to  that  world  that  she  believed  her  father  to  be 
long.  A  little  wild  she  thought  he  had  probably  been,  and 
possibly  weak  and  selfish.  Her  mother  had  not  encouraged 
questions  about  him,  and  had  upon  her  death-bed  given 
poor  'Melia  most  distinctly  to  understand  that,  if  she  wished 
10 


146  MR.    PETERS 

a  firm  footing  in  the  world,  she  must  make  it  apart  from  her 
father,  and  keep  it  by  her  own  efforts,  and  'Melia  had  never 
forgotten  that.  He  was  most  likely  coming  by  chance,  and 
would  go  as  he  had  gone  once  before.  A  stray  present  or 
two,  gloves,  even  a  dress  maybe,  or  a  hat,  not  forgetting 
cycling  shoes,  and  perhaps  a  night  or  two  at  the  theatre; 
these  were  the  things  she  might,  not  unreasonably,  hope  for. 
But,  having  more  or  less  rigidly  marked  out  the  boundaries 
of  common-sense,  surely  one  might  go  beyond  them,  openly 
masquerading. 

"  Now,  fancy,  if  —  •"  was  the  way  in  which  'Melia  began 
these  wanderings,  and  off  she  went.  The  handle-bars  of  her 
bicycle  became  solid  silver,  with  a  diamond  set  at  each  end. 
The  pedals  were  of  pure  gold,  regardless  of  wear  and  tear, 
for  was  she  not  rich  enough  to  get  fresh  ones  whenever  she 
wanted  them  ?  The  saddle  was  a  happy  and  peculiar  com 
bination  of  air  and  eider-down.  There  was  a  watch  set  in 
brilliants  at  the  back  of  the  handle-bars,  while  in  front 
blazed  a  great  diamond,  like  fifty  crown  jewels,  instead  of  a 
lamp.  She  wore  the  blue  skirt,  beautified  with  long  rows  of 
great  pearls,  and  there  was  a  diamond  buckle  on  each  of  her 
white-kid  red-heeled  shoes,  and  another  blazing  in  the  front 
of  her  hat,  as  the  electric  lights  blazed  on  the  heads  of  fairies 
she  had  seen  in  last  year's  pantomime,  while  at  the  back  of 
the  hat,  she  knew,  though  she  couldn't  see  it,  was  the  rarest 
and  reddest  of  rubies,  to  act  as  a  red  lamp. 

And  who  was  this  by  her  side  ?  Who  but  Mr.  Arctic 
Inch,  booted  and  spurred,  gallantly  riding  a  bicycle  that 
pranced  and  reared,  while  Miss  Moriarty  and  her  pa  looked 
on,  clapping  their  hands,  and  Cap'n  Peters  peered  over  their 
shoulders  from  behind,  looking  white  and  ill  as  he  did  for 
a  moment  in  the  morning.  Where  were  they  going  ?  Surely 
that  was  a  church,  all  lit  up,  in  front  of  them  !  As  she  dis 
mounted  at  the  door  Miss  Moriarty  and  her  pa  were  clap 
ping  louder  than  ever.  But  why  did  Cap'n  Peters, 


A  BICYCLE  LESSON  147 

stretching  a  long  arm  from  behind  them,  squeeze  her  hand 
so  hard  ? 

'Melia  started  up  with  the  pain,  and  found  that,  in  a  doze, 
she  had  turned  on  the  settee,  and  was  crushing  her  bruised 
hand  against  the  wall.  But  the  clapping  still  went  on,  and 
presently  realizing  that  there  was  someone  in  the  shop,  she 
screamed,  "  Coming  !  "  and  with  a  hurried  glimpse  in  the 
four-inch  mirror,  to  see  if  her  hair  was  straight,  she  lifted 
the  curtain  and  went  into  the  front  shop. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

s 

A   FOND    PARENT 

IT  was  a  rather  peculiar  figure  that  faced  'Melia  as  she 
stood  behind  the  counter.  A  flaming  red  tie  formed  as  it 
were  the  key-note.  Above  the  tie  shone  the  glossiest  and 
curliest-brimmed  of  "  toppers,"  and  between  the  hat  and  the 
tie  curled  a  ferocious,  blue-black  mustache.  Other  items 
were  a  frock-coat  faced  with  silk,  a  corded  velveteen  waist 
coat,  and  a  very  yellow  chain  hanging  across  it.  Also  a  pair 
of  yellow  kid  gloves,  the  left  one  on,  the  right  one  held  in  a 
dirty  hand.  These  things,  mostly  of  tailordom,  do  not  make 
a  portrait,  but  they  were  the  details  first  noticed,  and  led 
'Melia  to  a  hasty  conclusion. 

"  A  theatrical  gent  !  "  she  decided,  and  was  not  perhaps 
so  far  wrong  as  she  imagined  herself  to  be  one  minute  later. 
The  owner  of  the  glossy  hat  raised  it,  showing  an  equally 
glossy  head. 

"  Can  you,"  he  began,  politely,  "  tell  me  whether  a  Miss 
Buncombe  resides  here  ?  "  and  then,  before  'Melia  could 
answer  him- — 

"  My  daughter  !  "  he  announced  with  fervor,  and  'Melia 
found  herself  embraced  across  the  counter,  her  nose,  which 
was  naturally  a  trifle  tip-tilted,  being  made  aquiline  against 
the  corded  velveteen  waistcoat. 

"  At  last,"  said  Buncombe,  with  a  well-marked  tremor  in 
liis  voice,  "  I  have  got  what  I  have  so  long  worked  for  !  " 
and  'Melia,  who,  after  all,  had  never  been  accustomed  to 
over-much  affection,  or  to  the  thought  of  anyone  working 
for  her,  was  moved  to  such  an  extent  that  she  couldn't  help 


A  FOND  PARENT  149 

sniffing  quietly — a  very  little — and  letting  a  tear  fall  upon 
the  red  tie,  which  tear,  however,  she  wiped  away  hastily,  for 
fear  it  should  take  the  color  out. 

Buncombe  then  held  her  off  at  arm's  length  over  the 
counter,  which  was  still  between  them. 

"  My  little  Era'ly  !  "  he  protested,  "  I  should  have  known 
you  anywhere  !  "  which  may  or  may  not  have  been  true, 
but  Buncombe  had  spent  almost  every  evening  at  the  thea 
tre  lately,  and  had  seen  several  stage-fathers  greet  their 
daughters. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  'Melia  told  him,  wiping  her  eyes 
and  blowing  her  nose  without  any  attempt  either  to  hide  or 
to  exaggerate  her  feelings.  "  I'm  gladder  than  I  thought 
I'd  be.  You  didn't  seem  real  somehow  till  you  came  in. 
Come  into  my  room  and  sit  down,  Pa,  so  as  no  one  will  see  me 
like  this  if  they  drop  in,"  and,  clutching  Buncombe's  hand, 
she  led  him  behind  the  curtain.  Then,  carefully  taking  the 
glossy  hat  and  a  cane  from  him,  and  putting  them  respect 
fully  in  a  place  of  safety,  she  sat  down  beside  him  on  the  old 
settee,  half  laughing,  half  crying. 

Now  that  his  lower  half  was  no  longer  hidden  from  'Me 
lia  by  the  counter,  fresh  beauties  showed  themselves  to  her 
in  the  shape  of  a  bluish  pair  of  trousers,  white  spats,  and 
patent  leather  boots. 

"  You  are  a  swell  !  "  she  said,  admiringly,  and  ventured, 
after  consideration,  to  give  him  a  little  hug,  which  Bun 
combe  took  undemonstratively,  being  occupied  in  looking 
about  him. 

"  Rather  a  hole  for  my  daughter  !  "  he  announced  pres 
ently,  and  poked  his  head  through  the  curtain,  to  have  an 
other  look  at  the  shop. 

"  I  don't  mind,"  said  'Melia,  valiantly.  "  Beggars  mustn't 
be  choosers,"  and  then  she  stopped  with  a  jerk  and  a  blush, 
because  she  had  a  dim  idea  that  she  seemed  to  be  saying 
something  that  reflected  upon  her  newly  found  parent.  He, 


150  MR.   PETERS 

however,  perhaps  not  being  so  sensitive,  took  no  notice,  but, 
stepping  out  into  the  shop,  chose  a  cigar. 

"  No  one  to  object  to  my  smoking  here,  I  suppose,"  he 
said,  coming  back. 

"  No,"  said  'Melia,  and  added  promptly,  after  looking  at 
the  cigar  from  which  Buncombe  was  biting  the  end,  "  that's 
i'ourpence  !  " 

"  I'll  put  the  money  in  the  till,  myself,  in  a  minute,"  she 
went  on,  hurriedly,  seeing  that  he  stared  at  her.  "  I'm  so 
afraid  of  forgetting  a  thing  like  that.  Let  me  give  it  to 
you,  Pa." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you'd  pay  Eivers  for  a  thing  like 
that  ?  "  asked  Buncombe,  staring  at  her. 

"  Eivers  !  "  'Melia  repeated  the  name,  puzzled,  until  the 
joke  slowly  dawned  upon  her,  and  she  burst  out  laughing, 
while  Buncombe  stood,  with  the  unlit  cigar  in  his  hand, 
waiting  for  an  explanation. 

"  You  spotted  it  over  the  door  ?  "  she  asked,  presently. 
"  That's  my  name,  that  is.  It's  only  been  up  a  week  !  " 

"  Your  name  !  "  asked  Buncombe,  as  astonished  as  if  he 
had  not  changed  his  own  periodically.  "  Are  you  married 
then  ?  " 

This  tickled  'Melia's  fancy  immensely,  and  she  laughed 
louder  than  ever,  so  loudly  that  neither  of  them  heard  a  step 
on  the  other  side  of  the  curtain. 

"  Me  married,  Pa  !  "  she  gasped,  when  she  could  speak. 
"  Not  much  !  It  was  just  a  joke  of  mine.  Miss  Rivers,  I'm 
known  as  hereabouts.  But,"  she  went  on  after  a  moment's 
hesitation,  "  I've  thought  lately  I  was  a  silly  fool  for  my 
pains,  and  of  course,  now  you're  back,  it's  a  different  thing. 
I'll  stop  it,  though,"  she  added,  regretfully  ;  "  it's  just  new 
painted  up.  However,  we'll  see  about  that,  and  anyway 
I'll  tell  those  as  care  to  know." 

She  then  proceeded  to  explain  her  responsible  position, 
but  Buncombe,  as  the  state  of  affairs  dawned  upon  him, 


A  FOND  PARENT  151 

looked  at  the  question  of  the  name  from  a  different  point 
of  view,  and  seemed  quite  to  enjoy  the  joke. 

"  Ah,  Youth,  Youth  !  "  he  said,  shaking  his  head  smil 
ingly  over  his  cigar,  "  you've  your  poor  father's  love  of  the 
romantic,  my  dear.  After  all,  where's  the  harm  ?  As  you 
say,  it  would  be  a  pity  to  have  the  painting  done  over  again. 
Let  the  thing  be,  and  say  nothing  for  the  time.  I  daresay  it 
won't  be  for  long,  Emily  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  'Melia,  who  in  the  last  week  or  two  had  really 
begun  to  feel  rather  ashamed  of  this  fancy,  together  with 
one  or  two  other  things  about  herself  which  were  not  quite 
as  they  seemed.  "  Yes,  but  'ow  can  we  ?  I'm  your  daugh 
ter,  and  if  you're  goin'  to  be  about,  as  of  course  you  are,  why, 
'ow  can  I  be  Rivers  any  more  ?  Unless  you'd  be  Rivers 
too  !  " 

This  struck  her  as  more  than  ridiculous  and  impossible, 
and  she  went  off  into  peals  of  laughter  again,  under  cover  of 
which  the  patient  customer,  outside,  moved  closer  yet,  until 
he  was  only  separated  from  them  by  the  curtain. 

Inside,  Buncombe  joined  in  'Melia's  enjoyment  of  the 
joke. 

"  Good,  very  good  !  "  he  told  her.  "  I'd  do  more  than 
that  to  see  my  little  girl  laugh  as  she  laughs  now.  Rivers 
let  it  be,  by  all  means." 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  worth  the  trouble  for  you,"  said  'Melia, 
stopping  her  laughter,  and  beginning  to  consider.  "  If  I've 
been  a  silly,  why,  I  deserve  to  have  people  laugh  at  me,  as 
they  will." 

But  Buncombe's  paternal  feeling  would  not  allow  this. 

"  No  one  shall  laugh  at  my  girl  while  her  poor  old  dad  is 
near,"  he  assured  her.  "  Rivers  it  shall  be,  I  insist  upon  it. 
Think  how  very  foolish  you  would  seem.  Your  employer 
might  even  think  it  dishonesty,  when  it  is  only  a  romantic 
girl's  fancy.  Emily,  my  child,  I  insist  upon  it — Rivers." 

"  Well,  Pa,  you  know  best,"  'Melia  agreed,  enjoying  the 


152  MR.   PETERS 

change  of  having  someone  to  give  her  peremptory  orders, 
and  decide  for  her.  "  But  your  clothes  and  things  !  It's 
always  found  out  that  way  in  novels.  Not  that  it  matters 
so  much  here.  We've  nothing  to  hide,  'cept  the  name." 

"  Everything  fresh  on  me,  my  dear,  from  top  to  toe,"  said 
Buncombe,  reassuringly.  "  I  had  a  new  outfit  in  London, 
and  left  it  all  for  you  to  mark.  I  knew  you'd  wish  to.  My 
trunk  is  at  the  station  still.  I'll  fetch  it,  tear  off  the  label, 
put  on  Rivers,  and  there  you  are  !  Eureka  !  as  we  used  to 
say  at  Oxford,  and  wh  o  is  the  worse  or  the  wiser  ?  " 

The  patient  customer  was  the  wiser,  by  a  glimpse  of  Bun 
combe's  black-mustached  face,  through  a  split  seam  in  the 
curtain,  and  Eureka  might  have  come  more  appropriately 
from  him.  It  was  as  well  also  that  he  should  know  of  this 
changed  name  before  being  introduced  to  Miss  Rivers'  Pa, 
since  she  herself  had  said,  at  their  first  meeting,  that  he 
called  himself  Buncombe. 

Apparently  the  customer  was  now  struck  by  the  impro 
priety  of  listening,  unseen,  to  conversation  between  father 
and  daughter,  for,  the  next  time  that  'Melia  began  to  laugh, 
he  moved  away,  and  went  out  into  the  street  while  they 
chattered,  as  quietly  as  his  own  black  shadow. 

Mr.  Peters,  for  Mr.  Peters  it  was,  went  slowly  some  dis 
tance  down  the  street.  His  eyes,  as  he  went,  were  wide 
open,  and  quite  as  bright  as  usual,  but  he  cannot  have  been 
using  them  very  effectively,  since  he  was  only  prevented 
from  being  run  over  at  the  first  turning  by  a  cab,  through 
the  yells  of  the  cabman.  The  man's  forcible  statement,  as 
to  his  opinion  of  Peters  generally,  and  Peters'  eyes  in  par 
ticular,  roused  him.  but  didn't  ruffle  him  in  the  least.  On 
the  contrary,  he  politely  waved  his  thanks,  standing  there 
on  the  curb,  and,  presently  turning,  went  back  to  the  shop, 
having  remembered  that  his  errand  was  unfulfilled. 

"  A  pair  of  cycling  shoes  ?  "  he  heard  a  voice  from  the 
back  room  saying,  as  he  passed  in.  "  Of  course,  Emily. 


A  FOND   PARENT  153 

The  best  that  money  can  buy,  in  a  few  days,  as  soon  as  my 
business  is  set  agoing." 

But  Mr.  Peters,  influenced  no  doubt  by  the  delicacy 
which  made  him  leave  the  place  before,  did  not  wait  to  hear 
further.  He  rapped  loudly  upon  the  floor  with  his  um 
brella,  and  'Melia  at  once  made  an  appearance. 

"  I  came,  Miss  Rivers,"  he  said,  "  to  ask  for  you.  Your 
fall  has  troubled  me.  Tell  me,  you  are  well  ?  " 

"  Wy,  here's  Cap'n  Peters  !  My  Pa's  come,  Cap'n 
Peters  !  " 

"  What  a  pleasure  !  "  said  Peters,  enthusiastically.  "  Tell 
me  that  you  are  well,  Miss  Eivers,  and  I  leave  you  to  him." 

"  Not  a  bit  !  "  'Melia  declared.  "  Pa,  come  out  and  be 
introduced  to  Cap'n  Peters  that  I  told  you  about." 

So  Rivers,  as  we  must  call  him  now,  came  out,  and  was 
formally  introduced. 

"  My  Pa,  Cap'n  Peters  !  " 

"  Delighted  !  "  said  her  father,  shaking  hands  affably. 
"  Of  what  regiment,  sir  ?  " 

'Melia  began  to  laugh,  but  Peters  was  untroubled. 

"  I  am  enlisted  among  your  daughter's  admirers,  Mr. 
Rivers,"  he  told  him,  with  a  profound  bow.  "  It  is  the  only 
regiment  I  have  joined." 

"  Cap'n  Peters  belongs  to  the  sea,"  'Melia  explained. 

"  Ah  !    Royal  Navy  ?  "  suggested  Rivers. 

"  No,  a  wanderer,"  Peters  explained,  "  in  the  ships  of 
many  nations." 

"  Cap'n  Peters  has  been  in  the  States,"  suggested  'Melia. 

"  Ah  !  Where,  for  example  ?  "  asked  Rivers,  suddenly 
watchful. 

"  I  have  discharged  cargo  at  Boston,"  said  Peters,  think 
ing  carefully,  "and  have  loaded  at  Florida  twice,  Mr. 
Rivers." 

"  A  most  honorable  occupation,"  Rivers  asserted,  with 
a  somewhat  condescending  air,  having  suddenly  remem- 


154  MR.    PETERS 

bered  Oxford.  "  The  mercantile  marine  of  the  world,  sir, 
includes  many  of  its  finest  men.  '  Those  that  go  down  to 
the  sea  in  ships.'  And  when  is  your  next  voyage  ?  " 

Peters  couldn't  tell  him. 

"  I  have  worked,"  he  admitted,  "  too  hard  to  have  time 
to  spend.  But  we  sailors  are  a  lot  of  silly,  extravagant  dogs. 
When  we  have  a  few  hundreds  we  are  foolish  children.  1 
shall  wait  a  little,  and  enjoy  myself  a  little,  before  I  go  far 
again.  We  are  a  careless  lot." 

Rivers  inwardly  quite  agreed  to  this,  but  outwardly  pro 
tested. 

"  A  simple,  straightforward  body  of  men,  taken  alto 
gether,  sir,"  he  insisted.  "  I  have  met  with  men  of  your 
profession  in  business,  and  have  found  them  most  satis 
factory  to  deal  with  " — which  was  absolutely  true. 

While  this  was  going  on,  'Melia,  who  stood  by,  had  been 
following  her  own  train  of  thought.  As  soon  as  she  told 
her  father  that  Peters  had  been  in  the  States,  she  recollected 
their  first  meeting,  and  their  chat  about  her  name.  "  A 
silly  Juggins  "  was  the  mildest  that  she  could  call  herself, 
and  it  puzzled  her  to  know  what  she  ought  to  do.  But 
Peters  showed  no  sign  of  remembering  about  it.  Her  father 
was  at  once  "  Mr.  Rivers,"  and  'Melia,  listening,  gave  a 
little  sigh  of  relief.  "  I'm  sick  of  these  muddles,"  she 
thought,  "  I've  told  'em  both  what  a  fool  I  was,  and  if  Cap'n 
Peters  chooses  to  forget,  why  it's  not  my  business,  and 
makes  no  difference  anyway.  We're  Riverscs  now,  once  for 
all,  me  an'  him,  an'  there's  an  end  of  it." 

She  was  disturbed  in  her  meditations  by  Mr.  Peters  offer 
ing  to  say  good-by,  and  Rivers  begging  him  not  to  hurry. 

"  Em'ly  and  I  have  had  our  little  chat,"  Rivers  told  him, 
"  and  I  must  go  off  presently  to  hunt  for  lodgings.  Before 
you  go,  Captain  Peters,  perhaps  you  could  suggest  rooms  for 
me.  Emily  cannot  help  me  in  that,  I  fancy." 

Peters  thought  carefully.    "  For  you  and  Miss  Rivers  ?  " 


A  FOND   PARENT  155 

he  suggested,  but  Rivers  put  him  right  upon  that  point  at 
once. 

"  Not  yet  !  "  he  said,  hastily.  "  I  may  tell  you  as  a 
friend,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  call  you  one,  Captain  Peters, 
that  I  hope  to  manage  that  soon.  This — er — occupation 
is  not  suitable  for  any  daughter  of  mine,  but  for  a  few  days 
it  will  be  best  for  her  to  make  no  change  of  any  kind." 

'Melia's  face  had  lighted  up  at  Peters'  suggestion,  and 
now  clouded  proportionately,  but  she  had  no  thought  of 
argument. 

"  Yes,  Pa,  you  know  best,"  she  agreed,  and  Peters  con 
sidered  again. 

"  There  is  a  most  respectable  lady,  a  Mrs.  Jimps,"  he 
admitted,  "  who  is  excellent  for  a  poor  man  like  me,  and 
I  am  content  there.  But  for  a  rich  man  -  -  !  "  and  he 
put  aside  the  idea  of  the  House  of  Residence,  for  such  as 
Mr.  Rivers,  with  a  single  shrug. 

"  Not  so  rich,"  Rivers  insisted,  modestly.  "  One  may 
have  prospects,  and  a  little  cash  in  hand  to  come  and  go 
upon,  like  yourself,  Captain  Peters,  but  one  must  econo 
mize  in  the  meantime.  Now,  I  think  Mrs.  Jinks  might  suit 
me  admirably." 

"  There  are  no  luxuries,"  protested  the  ungrateful  Peters, 
who  must  have  forgotten  the  partridge  leg,  but  Mr.  Rivers 
was  persistent. 

"  I  have  roughed  it  in  my  time,"  he  allowed.  "  I  can  do 
so  again  if  necessary.  Is  it  near  by  ?  I  must  not  be  far 
from  my  daughter's  place  of  business,  while  she  remains 
in  it." 

From  the  tone,  and  from  the  glance  which  he  cast  upon 
these  modest  premises,  it  was  quite  obvious  that  the  aristo 
cratic  name  of  Rivers  would  soon  be  painted  out. 

It  was  near,  Peters  admitted,  almost  grudgingly,  but 
it  was  dull  to  desperation.  He  had  to  come  out  of  it  to  get 
amusement. 


156  MR.   PETERS 

"  Even  then,"  he  suggested,  "  these  good  Scotch  people 
are  dull.  Their  Sabbath,  observe,  leaves  a  man  only  eating, 
drinking,  and  sleeping.  Whist  is  the  only  game  I  have  ever 
seen  in  the  house  of  my  good  Mrs.  Jimps — for  counters." 

"  Ah,  you  sailors  !  You  must  have  excitement,"  Rivers 
said,  shaking  his  head  over  the  sinf ulness  of  the  class,  with 
a  fatherly  smile.  "  A  quiet  place  will  suit  me  very  well. 
Captain  Peters.  A  quiet,  respectable  place  where  I  can  rest 
my  old  bones,  and  be  near  my  daughter.  You  and  I  might 
sometimes  be  company  for  one  another,  Captain  Peters," 
and  Peters  had  to  allow  that,  as  a  pleasant  possibility. 

He  made  no  more  demur,  but  gave  Rivers  the  address, 
and  indeed  offered  to  go  with  him  to  fetch  his  luggage. 
But  Rivers,  recollecting  the  label  thereon,  declined,  and 
Peters  did  not  press  the  point.  He  bowed  his  adieu  to 
'Melia,  after  assuring  himself  that  she  was  none  the  worse 
for  her  tumble,  and,  leaving  her  father  at  the  first  street 
corner,  went  away  to  prepare  Mrs.  Jimps  for  the  advent  of 
another  Paying  Guest. 

He  had  gone  some  yards  when  a  loud  "  Hi  !  "  made  him 
turn,  to  find  himself  pursued  by  the  breathless  Rivers,  who 
laid  a  yellow-gloved  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  apologized  for 
troubling  him. 

"  It  has  just  occurred  to  me,  Captain  Peters,"  said 
'Melia's  Pa,  "  that  to  mention,  at  your  House  of  Residence, 
my  daughter's  present  false  and  temporary  position,  is  quite 
unnecessary.  In  fact,  shall  we  let  her  be  unmentioned,  ex 
cept  between  ourselves  ?  "  and  this  was  agreed. 


CHAPTER  XX 

TOM  DTTNBAR  :   POET  AND   STRATEGIST 

To  accuse  a  hitherto  ingenuous  youth  of  unblushing  hy 
pocrisy  is  no  small  matter,  and  yet  it  now  seems  necessary  to 
do  so,  lest  others  should  be  deceived.  Let  it  therefore  be 
plainly  stated  that,  at  about  this  time,  Tom  began  to  play  a 
double  game.  It  would  be  almost  equally  true  if  one  put 
the  case  another  way,  and  said  that,  at  about  this  time,  he  be 
gan  to  do  double  work.  He  "  swatted,"as  he  put  it,  most 
manfully,  at  his  legitimate  labors,  but  toiled  in  other  fields 
as  well,  and  under  false  pretences.  Having  found  Mori- 
arty's  weak  point,  he  set  himself  to  attack  it.  He  bom 
barded  the  unsuspecting  man  with  Couplets,  Triolets,  Eon- 
dels,  Eondeaus,  Sonnets,  and  the  Lord  knows  what  besides. 
He  began  by  dropping  in  on  a  Friday,  which  everyone,  at 
least  in  Edinburgh,  knows  is  supposed  to  be  an  off -night  for 
all  students.  Whether  it  is  or  no,  depends  upon  the  par 
ticular  student.  The  second  Friday  that  he  came,  quite  im 
promptu  as  it  were,  and  with  not  the  least  intention  of  stay 
ing,  unless  asked  to  do  so,  a  dispute  arose  between  Lucius 
and  himself  about  a  certain  quotation,  which  made  it  abso 
lutely  necessary  for  Tom  to  return  with  that  quotation  the 
next  evening,  which,  of  course,  being  Saturday,  gave  Nelly 
no  excuse  for  scolding  him. 

As  she  said,  when  he  offered  a  sort  of  apology,  it  was, 
after  all,  no  affair  of  hers.  He  knew  best  what  time  he 
could  spare,  she  told  him,  and  then  she  sat  dumb,  working 
at  a  shaving  tidy  for  Lucius,  and  took  no  part  in  the  heated 
literary  discussion  that  followed,  though  several  efforts  were 
made  to  get  her  entangled.  The  result  was  that  her  father, 


158  MR.    PETERS 

much  puzzled  and  troubled  by  her  neglect  of  their  visitor, 
"  a  powerful  well-read  fellow  too/'  as  he  told  her  afterwards, 
tried  to  atone  and  cover  it  by  extra  courtesy,  and  finished 
the  dispute  by  asking  him  to  dine  with  them  next  day, 
which,  of  course,  would  be  Sunday. 

When  Tom  refused,  hastily,  with  a  mutter  of  something 
about  a  little  quiet  reading,  Lucius  grew  indignant,  and 
called  upon  Nell,  stitching  in  silence,  to  help  him. 

"  Begor  ! "  he  demanded,  "  is  this  a  Christian  city,  and 
will  you  and  I  encourage  a  chap  to  work  seven  days  a 
week?" 

"  We're  out  of  date,  dear,"  Nell  told  him,  her  eyes  still 
fixed  upon  her  work.  "  I  don't  suppose  our  opinion  can 
make  any  difference." 

"  I'm  so  afraid  of  boring  you,"  protested  Tom. 

"  Any  of  our  friends  are  welcome  on  Sunday,"  Nell  said, 
still  stitching,  "  if  they  don't  find  us  too  quiet." 

Too  quiet  !  when  to  sit  in  the  same  room  with  her  sent 
Tom's  pulse  up  some  ten  beats  a  minute,  while  to  suddenly 
meet  her  in  the  street  seemed  to  make  his  heart  leap  to  his 
mouth.  Too  quiet  !  He  tried  to  make  his  eyes  express  all 
this,  while,  in  ordinary  language,  he  said  how  pleased  he 
would  be  to  dine  with  them.  The  result  was  that  Sunday 
found  him  there,  at  early  dinner,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  house,  and  Sunday  afternoon,  between  dinner  and  tea, 
proved,  for  Nell  at  anyrate,  anything  but  a  quiet  time.  For 
after  dinner  she  had  to  entertain  their  guest  alone. 

"  It's  me  habit,"  Lucius  admitted,  after  dessert,  "  to  lie 
quiet,  an'  think  of  the  sermon  for  awhile.  I  find  that  fixes 
it  in  me  memory,  an'  I  get  good  out  of  it  that  otherwise 
possibly  I  wouldn't.  Maybe,  after  I've  thought  it  over,  an' 
the  bearings  of  it,  I  go  to  sleep.  But  you'll  not  mind  that, 
Tom  ?  We'll  go  up  to  the  drawing-room,  and  Nell  will 
amuse  ye  there,  while  I  think  on  the  sofa."  So  up  they 
went. 


TOM  DUNBAR:   POET  AND  STRATEGIST  159 

So  rapidly  was  Lucius,  through  long  practice,  able  to  re 
view  a  sermon,  and  get  the  bearings  of  it,  that  five  minutes 
after  he  had  begun  his  meditation  he  melodiously  pro 
claimed  the  fact  by  a  hearty  snore,  which,  coming  suddenly 
upon  the  stillness  of  the  room,  made  Tom  start,  and  set  Nell 
laughing  heartily,  though  quietly  enough. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  so  easily  frightened,"  she  told 
him  softly. 

"  I  don't  think  my  nerves  are  as  good  as  they  were,"  Tom 
admitted,  with  somewhat  the  air  of  one  who  expected  sym 
pathy. 

"  Rubbish  !  "  retorted  Nell  icily.  "  What's  wrong  with 
them  ?  "  but  suddenly  dreading  that  the  imminent  explana 
tion  would  make  matters  worse,  she  explained  for  herself. 
"  I'm  afraid  you  smoke  too  much,"  she  told  him. 

"  Perhaps  I  do,"  agreed  Tom  meekly.  "  I  generally 
smoke  some  of  the  Dream  tobacco  while  I'm  trying  to  make 
rhymes  for  Mr.  Moriarty — to  get  the  right  spirit,  you 
know." 

"  A  lot  that  will  help  you  for  the  Final  !  "  Nell  told  him 
disdainfully.  "  Why  do  you  do  it  ?  Then  at  the  last 
you'll  either  break  down  or  be  spun  (i.e.  fail),  and  you'll 
blame  us,  and  we  shall  blame  ourselves,  and  neither  will  be 
any  use." 

"  You  might  guess  why  I  do  it,"  Tom  told  her,  thinking 
he  saw  his  chance  at  last,  and  raising  his  voice  as  his  hopes 
rose.  "  You  know  very  well  that  I'd  do  anything  — 

"  Sh-sh-sh,"  Nell  interrupted  hurriedly.  "  For  goodness 
sake,  don't  talk  so  loudly.  I  know  you'd  do  anything  for 
him,  but  if  you  say  it  so  loudly  you'll  wake  him  up,  and  it 
does  make  him  so  cross  if  he's  wakened  before  the  tea  comes 
up.  Would  you  mind  putting  some  coal  on,  softly,  because 
I  don't  want  him  to  find  the  fire  out,  and  if  I  ring  up  Jean, 
she's  sure  to  rush  in  and  make  a  noise  before  I  can  stop  her  ? 
Oil,  thank  you  so  much." 


160  MB.   PETERS 

Tom  rose,  I  will  not  say  willingly,,  to  do  as  she  wished, 
while  Nell  sat  racking  her  brains  for  topics  of  conversation 
that  would  be  safe.  They  seemed  few,  and  not  easily  intro 
duced.  When  Tom  came  back,  after  having  nearly  awa 
kened  Lucius  by  letting  a  large  lump  of  coal  smash  on  the 
fender,  she  was  still  groping  for  a  really  safe  theme,  and  had 
to  take  what  she  could  find,  anxious  above  all  things,  sud 
denly  and  for  feminine  reasons  not  to  be  easily  explained, 
that  he  should  have  no  chance  of  steering  the  conversation. 

"  Have  you  any  more  of  those  verses  with  you  ?  " 

Yes,  curiously  enough,  Tom  had,  and  was  decoyed  into 
producing  them,  while  Nell,  settling  herself  into  an  attitude 
of  calm  attention,  gazed  fixedly  at  the  fire. 

"  You're  sure  you  want  to  hear  them  ?  "  asked  Tom 
doubtfully.  "  They're  awful  rubbish,  you  know.  I'm 
afraid  they'll  bore  you." 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  Nell  told  him  hastily,  "  I'd  much  rather 
hear  them  than  anything  else,"  and  then,  reflecting  that  her 
speech  might  be  misunderstood,  she  fell  into  a  rosy  confu 
sion,  masked  to  some  extent  by  the  blaze  from  the  fire,  and 
hastily  bade  him  be  quick  and  read  them  before  her  father 
woke,  "  since  he  has  heard  them  all  before,"  she  added. 

We  must  bear  with  Tom  while  he  reads  one  or  two,  be 
cause  they  are  so  symptomatic  of  his  condition.  At  least 
we  are  better  off  than  poor  Nell,  who  had  to  face  a  big  fire 
if  she  wished  to  avoid  being  noticed,  as  she  alternately 
smiled  and  frowned,  but  persistently  blushed  through  it  all. 

Say,  gentles,  say,  what  good  thing  lack  ye, 
Since  having  me,  ye  have  good  'baccy  ? 
I  feed  the  hungry,  and  with  hope 
I  cheer  fond  lovers  when  they  mope. 

"Dear  me!"  Nell  chimed  in,  directly  he  finished. 
"  That's  very  nice,  but  is  it  true  ?  As  a  doctor,  now,  would 
you  recommend  tobacco  for  food  ?  " 


TOM  DUNBAR:   POET  AND  STRATEGIST  161 

"  It's  better  than  nothing,"  Tom  told  her,  a  trifle  gloom 
ily,  not  being  sure  whether  or  no  she  was  laughing  at  him. 

"  Then,  cheering  fond  lovers  with  hope  !  "  Nell  went  on 
remorselessly,  because  she  couldn't  stop  to  think.  "  Of 
course,  if  that's  enough  for  them  it's  all  right.  But  I 
shouldn't  think  it  very  satisfying  in  the  end  !  Now — 

"  He's  a  lucky  fellow  who  gets  so  much,"  interrupted 
Tom,  leaning  forward  and  trying  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the 
face  turned  towards  the  fire.  "  Oh,  Miss  Moriarty;  Nell,  if 
only- 

"  Oh  !  sh-sh-sh  !  "  Nell  told  him  ;  "  you  mustn't  speak  so 
loudly.  If  you  wake  father  before  tea  comes  up,  he  finds 
it  quite  hard  to  be  polite.  Now  he's  stirring,  and,  if  we 
suddenly  stop  talking,  the  stillness  will  wake  him  just  as 
badly  as  a  noise  would,  and  he'll  want  to  know  what's  the 
matter.  Do  go  on,  please  !  The  next  piece,  right  straight 
on;  they're  so  pretty  !  " 

Tom  choked  down  some  words  expressive  of  his  state  of 
mind,  and,  glaring  furiously  at  the  innocent  scape-goat  ly 
ing  on  the  sofa,  who  turned  uneasily  in  his  dreams,  read  on 
in  an  aggressive  way  not  at  all  suited  to  the  sentiment  of  the 
piece — 

If  you  would  see  your  fairest  fair, 
Her  dainty  form  and  feature, 
Smoke  !  and  upon  the  clouded  air 
Will  float  the  mocking1  creature. 

But  if  you'd  put  a  bruised  heart 
Upon  the  torturing-  rack-oh 
Touch  not  the  pipe  !   but,  sighing,  part 
With  all  your  sweet  tobacco. 

"  What's  a  racko  ?  "  asked  Nell,  swift  upon  the  closing 

line.     "  Oh,  I  see  what  you  mean  !     I  beg  your  pardon. 

How  stupid  of  me  !     What  a  comfort  it  must  be  to  have 

a  pipe.     Why  aren't  women  allowed  to  smoke,  I  wonder  ?  " 

11 


162  ME.   PETERS 

"  They  don't  need  comforting,  I  expect/'  Tom  growled, 
feeling  rather  surly,  and  very  much  of  a  fool.  "  I  think 
they'd  have  more  pity  on  a  fellow  if  they  had  any  feelings." 

"  Dear  me  ! "  said  Nell  innocently,  "  I  didn't  know  you 
had  such  a  poor  opinion  of  women  !  Has  Chloris  been  un 
kind  ?  There's  father  stirring  again  !  The  least  little 
thing  would  wake  him,  and  he  is  so  cross  when  he  doesn't 
wake  up  naturally,  unless  his  tea  is  ready.  But  it  will  be  up 
in  a  minute.  Perhaps  I'd  better  wake  him  unless  you've 
anything  more  to  read  to  me  !  " 

"  Mayn't  we  talk  instead  ?  "  asked  Tom  dolefully. 

"  Not  for  worlds  !  "  Nell  told  him  hurriedly.  "  If  he 
wakes  he  must  have  his  tea  at  once,  and  he'll  wake  in  a 
minute  unless  one  goes  on  in  a  sort  of  reading  sing-song 
voice,  don't  you  know  ?  Do  read  me  just  one  more  at  any- 
rate  !  Have  you  any  more  like  that  pretty  one  to  Chloris 
that  you  read  us  the  other  night  ?  Perhaps  you've  got  the 
same  one  there.  I'd  like  to  hear  it  again." 

"  Mr.  Moriarty  has  it  still,"  said  Tom  disconsolately,  at 
which  Nell  smiled  to  the  fire,  knowing  otherwise,  "  and  I 
haven't  another  copy  with  me,  I'm  sorry  to  say.  If  you'd 
like  one  I'll  bring  it  another  time,  but  he's  got  that  one  in 
his  desk ;  I  saw  him  put  it  there." 

"  That's  a  pity,"  said  Nell,  philosophically  enough,  "  and 
his  desk  is-  locked.  But  you  might  read  me  just  one  more 
before  the  tea  comes  up.  If  you've  got  another  for 
Chloris  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Tom  desperately,  "  I've  got  another  for 
Chloris,  but  whether  she'll  like  it  or  not  is  another  ques 
tion — 

Chloris  plagued  me  day  by  day, 

Smiled,  beguiled,  and  frowned,  and  floiited. 
At  her  little  feet  I  lay, 

Looked  and  worshipped,  never  doubted, 
Only  raised  my  eyes  to  see 
Chloris,  my  divinity. 


TOM  DUNBAR:   POET  AND   STRATEGIST  163 

Till  at  lastj  one  careless  day, 

'Neath  those  feet,  she  thought  she  crushed  me, 
Laughing.     When,  to  her  dismay, 

Kising,  straight,  I  shook  and  brushed  me, 
Knelt  no  more,  no  more  did  pray, 

Gave  a  yawn  and  came  away." 

"  Bravo  ! "  cried  Lucius,  huskily,  from  where  he  lay 
stretched,  only  half-awake.  "  That's  right,  Tom,  my  boy  ! 
Don't  stand  any  nonsense  from  'em.  Nell,  my  dear,  ring  up 
the  tea  at  once,  will  you  ?  I've  thought  it  all  out,  and 
I  guess  I  can  tackle  the  minister  next  time  he  comes,  an' 
make  him  feel  he's  got  listening,  thinking,  practical  men 
sitting  under  him,  though  they  may  not  be  so  wise  as  some. 
Tom,  that  last  was  a  fine  piece,  me  boy,  and  ye  read  it  most 
feelingly.  She's  a  sly  minx,  your  Chloris,  I  reckon  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXI 

PATIENCE  ! 

THAT  same  Sunday,  the  second  which  he  spent  in  Edin 
burgh,  Kivers  began  to  feel  dull.  The  previous  Sunday,  he 
had  managed  to  keep  himself  awake,  by  spending  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  with  'Melia.  They  went  to  early 
service  at  St.  Giles',  and  took  a  long  walk  afterwards,  and 
another  in  the  afternoon,  when  Peters  went  with  them. 

But  this  time  it  was  different.  The  latter  part  of  that 
November  was  marked  by  thick  fogs,  one  of  which  fell  upon 
this  particular  Sunday,  blurring  all  things  to  a  colorless 
gloom,  and  rousing  in  Rivers  an  almost  uncontrollable  de 
sire  for  strong  drink.  This,  the  man  very  well  knew,  was 
what  he  must  above  all  things  fight  against,  until  he  had 
settled,  one  way  or  the  other,  whether  there  were  any  pros 
pects  of  making  his  visit  a  financial  success.  After  that 
point  was  decided  he  promised  himself  a  royal  spree,  which 
ever  way  things  might  turn  out.  Meanwhile  he  was  sober 
and  snappish,  but  in  no  great  danger  for  that  day,  since  he 
had  carefully  avoided  bringing  drink  into  his  room,  and  it 
was  not  easy,  on  a  Sunday,  to  get  any  outside  it. 

He  met  'Melia  in  the  morning,  and  lectured  the  poor  girl 
peevishly  upon  her  pronunciation  and  other  little  failings, 
until  she  was  covered  with  shamed  silence.  Others  might 
say  what  they  would,  and  'Melia  light-heartedly  held  her 
own  against  them,  but,  to  this  pere  prodigue,  she  was  all 
dutiful  submission. 

"  I'll  try,  Pa,"  she  said,  humbly,  in  answer  to  his  in- 


PATIENCE  !  165 

struction  as  to  the  value  of  aspirates,  but  Elvers  was  not 
satisfied. 

"  That's  another  silly  thing  you  say,"  he  pointed  out. 
"  Why  '  Pa '  ?  It's  American,  not  British.  You  never 
hear  a  well-bred  British  subject  say  (  Pa  '  !  " 

"  I  haven't  met  many  real  ladies/'  'Melia  suggested  in 
self-defense,  which  only  made  matters  worse. 

"  Are  you  going  to  complain  of  that,  too  ? "  Rivers 
demanded,  melodramatically,  "  and  'at  a  time  when  I  risk 
everything  for  you  ?  This  is  a  daughter's  gratitude  !  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  never  meant  anything,"  'Melia  pleaded, 
scarcely  able  to  pick  her  way  through  the  mud  because  of 
the  blinding  tears,  which  she  would  not  lift  a  handkerchief 
to  wipe  away.  "  I  didn't  think— 

"  You  should  think  ! "  interrupted  Rivers,  sharply. 
"  Thoughtlessness  like  that  is  what  I  cannot,  and  will  not, 
stand.  I  shall  go  back  to  my  rooms  now.  No,  you  needn't 
come  with  me.  I  need  to  consider  my  plans  for  your  bene 
fit.  You  might  use  a  day  like  this  as  an  opportunity  for 
thinking  over  some  of  the  faults  I  have  spoken  of  !  " 

With  that,  and  a  nod,  he  turned  towards  the  House  of 
Residence,  which  he  had  not  yet  allowed  her  to  come  near, 
and  poor  'Melia,  plodding  her  way  alone  to  her  little  room, 
rejoiced  in  the  fog,  since  it  let  her  cry,  unchecked  through 
any  fear  of  being  observed  by  passers-by,  who  came  to 
wards  her  looming  like  shadows  for.  one  instant,  and  were 
utterly  lost  the  next. 

Rivers,  letting  himself  in  with  the  latch-key  provided  by 
Mrs.  Jimps,  paused  at  his  own  door,  and  then  turning  the 
handle,  looked  in.  It  was  as  he  had  expected.  The  room 
was  still  untidy,  the  fire  unlit,  and  his  limp  mustache, 
damped  and  dulled  by  the  foggy  atmosphere  outside,  hung 
more  limp  than  ever  as  he  looked.  He  stood  and  con 
sidered,  listening  to  the  cheerful  sound  that  came  from 
the  opposite  room  belonging  to  Peters.  For  Peters  was 


166  MR   PETERS 

evidently  unaffected  by  the  fog,  and  was  singing  in  a  cheery 
way  that  gave  splendid  evidence  of  an  easy  conscience,  or  a 
good  digestion,  or  of  both. 

Kivers  looked  around  his  own  room  again,  and  noted  how 
the  fog  had  penetrated  even  there.  He  looked  across  the 
passage  at  the  opposite  door,  behind  which  the  cheerful 
voice  boomed  more  loudly  than  ever,  and  at  last  stepped 
into  the  corridor  and  rapped. 

He  had  to  knock  twice  before  he  got  any  answer,  so  oc 
cupied  was  Peters  in  his  own  pursuits,  but  finally  he  was 
heard. 

"  Enter  !  "  Peters  answered,  and  Kivers,  pushing  the  door 
open,  found  himself  at  once  in  what,  to  him,  seemed  an 
earthly  paradise.  A  roaring  fire  flickered  up  the  chimney, 
a  large  oil-lamp  was  lit  upon  the  table.  The  blinds  were 
down,  the  curtains  were  drawn.  Upon  the  hob  steamed  a 
kettle,  and  at  Mr.  Peters'  elbow  stood  a  full  cup  of  his  own 
particular  coffee,  while  a  spirit  decanter  was  close  handy. 
Peters  himself  lounged  in  an  easy-chair  at  the  fireside,  with 
a  low  table  before  him,  upon  which  he  had  put  his  coffee 
and  spread  a  pack  of  cards.  He  was  in  a  loose  bright  dress 
ing-gown,  out  of  which  rose  his  big  black  head.  He  smoked 
a  fat  cigar,  and  was  the  very  picture  of  one  content  with 
himself  and  his  surroundings,  and  at  peace  with  all  man 
kind. 

"  Aha  ! "  he  remarked,  looking  up  with  one  hand  upon 
the  cards,  "  the  good  Rivers  !  How  is  it  with  the  good 
Rivers  ?  "  He  had  adopted  a  free-and-easy  style  of  ad 
dressing  that  gentleman  immediately  after  their  first  meet 
ing,  and  not  altogether  with  Rivers'  approval.  The  differ 
ence  between  a  sea-captain  and  an  Oxford  man  did  not  seem 
quite  plain  to  Captain  Peters,  and  the  other  at  first  tried  to 
make  it  clear  to  him  by  a  frosty  politeness.  But,  in  the 
first  place,  Peters  took  no  notice,  and  secondly  the  manner 
was  very  difficult  to  keep  up,  and  might,  Rivers  thought, 


PATIENCE  !  167 

interfere  with  certain  little  plans,  with  regard  to  this  simple 
mariner,  which  suggested  themselves  to  him.  So  he  now 
merely  smiled  apologetically  as  he  stood  in  the  doorway,  be 
fore  explaining  his  errand. 

"  I  pictured  you  at  church  !  "  Peters  told  him.  "  La,  la, 
la,  la-a,  La,  la,  la,  la,"  and  he  rolled  out  a  scrap  of  a  Gre 
gorian  chant  with  fervor  and  great  enjoyment  to  himself. 
His  big,  plump,  clean-shaven  face,  and  close-cut  black  hair 
might  have  belonged  to  a  jolly  monk.  The  music  seemed 
to  catch  his  fancy,  and  the  sonorous  Latin  of  a  full  verse 
echoed  through  the  room,  before  he  stopped. 

"  Bravo  !  bravo  !  "  cried  Rivers,  applauding  in  the  door 
way.  "  Quite  operatic,  sir  !  Latin,  is  it  not  ?  Your  for 
eign  accent  puzzles  an  Oxford  man." 

"  From  one  of  the  Psalms,"  explained  Peters,  lifting  his 
coffee  to  his  lips  as  he  spoke,  and  looking  at  Rivers  over  the 
edge  of  the  cup.  "  Enter,  my  good  Rivers,  and  tell  me 
what  I  may  do  for  you.  Let  not  the  fog  come  also." 

So  Rivers  entered,  closing  the  door  carefully  behind  him, 
and,  crossing  the  room,  took  up  a  position  on  the  hearth 
rug,  with  his  back  to  the  delightful  fire.  What  had  he  come 
for  ?  The  odor  of  coffee,  with  something  in  it,  rising 
under  the  man's  nose,  suggested  to  him  what  he  might  get, 
even  if  he  had  not  come  for  it. 

"  The  fact  is,"  he  told  Peters,  sniffing  gently,  "  the  fog 
outside  is  simply  vile.  It  has  got  down  my  throat,  always  a 
weak  point  with  me." 

"  A  weak  point,  is  it  ?  "  demanded  Peters,  with  an  up 
ward  glance  at  what  was  to  be  seen  of  the  part  in  question. 
"  Ah,  you  should  take  great  care  of  that,  my  good  Rivers, 
and  of  your  neck.  Do  not  forget  your  neck,  that  is  most 
important  !  " 

"  Yes,"  Rivers  agreed,  "I  daresay  that  is  important.  One 
ought  to  wrap  up  more  perhaps." 

"  You  should  certainly  have  something  about  your  neck," 


168  MR.   PETERS 

Peters  declared,  rising  and  looking  more  closely.  "  See,  it 
is  all  bare,  exposed  all  about  here  !  " 

He  passed  both  hands  about  the  neck  in  question  as  he 
spoke,  and  closed  them  on  it  lingeringly,  but  took  them 
away  directly  Rivers  put  up  a  hand  in  protest. 

"  I  was  thinking,"  said  the  latter,  shifting  his  head  from 
side  to  side,  and  clearing  his  throat  experimentally,  "  that  if 
I  took  a  little  something  hot  before  a  cold  got  hold  of  me, 
that  might  help  to  throw  it  off.  But  then  you  see  it's  Sun 
day,  and  I've  nothing  in  my  room.  I  don't  keep  anything 
there.  Foolish,  perhaps,  but  a  matter  of  principle." 

"  Ah,"  Peters  told  him,  "  you  should  never  go  against 
your  principles.  But  look  you,  I  have  no  principles,  and 
so  I  can  keep  brandy  for  such  weather.  Drink,  my  Rivers, 
and  forget  this  so  damnable  climate." 

"  Now,  this  is  really  kind,"  Rivers  declared;  "  you  must 
let  me  replace  it  to-morrow,  you  really  must,  under  the  cir 
cumstances." 

Peters  bestirred  himself  hospitably.  He  got  out  a  glass, 
and,  suggesting  that  Rivers  might  think  whiskey  better  for 
his  weak  point,  produced  some,  together  with  sugar  and  a 
lemon.  Then  Rivers  mixed  himself  a  glass — a  stiff  one — 
and  sat  down  in  the  opposite  easy-chair  to  drink  it,  and  to 
watch,  with  some  curiosity,  Captain  Peters'  little  game  at 
cards,  which  began  again  directly  that  hospitable  mariner 
had  supplied  his  wants. 

The  cards  were,  many  of  them,  spread  across  the  table, 
face  up.  Some  he  held,  and  dealt  slowly,  sometimes  putting 
them  among  the  exposed  ones,  sometimes  adding  them  to  a 
little  pile  at  his  side.  As  he  played  he  talked,  inquiring 
politely  after  'Melia's  health  and  other  interesting  matters. 
But  Rivers'  attention  always  wandered  to  the  cards,  and  at 
last  he  expressed  his  curiosity. 

"  I've  played  a  game  or  two  in  my  time,  when  I  was 
young  and  foolish,"  he  explained,  "  and  among  friends. 


PATIENCE !  169 

But  I'll  be  hanged,  Captain  Peters,  if  I  know  what  that 
is!" 

This  open  expression  of  ignorance,  for  some  reason  or  an 
other,  tickled  Peters'  imagination,  not  to  all  appearance 
easily  stirred,  and  shook  him  to  fits  of  laughter.  He  first 
showed  his  entertainment  by  deep  chuckles,  his  black  eyes 
fixed  intently  upon  his  interested  visitor.  Gradually  his 
amusement  grew  until  it  was  beyond  his  control,  and  he 
rolled  to  and  fro  in  the  big  easy-chair,  as  a  storm-stricken 
ship  might  roll  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  helpless  under  a 
hurricane  of  laughter. 

"  Glad  to  amuse  you  !  "  Eivers  told  him,  glaring  with  his 

haughtiest  manner,  "  but  I'm  d d  if  I  see  what's  the 

joke  ! " 

"  That  is  better  !  "  gasped  Peters,  with  his  hand  against 
his  side  as  though  fearful  of  internal  damage.  "  It  is  your 
so  strange  language.  What  do  you  say  ?  You  will  be 
hanged  if  you  understand  ?  What  a  strange  thing  !  Would 
one  not  rather  say  you  might  be  hanged  if  you  did  not  un 
derstand  ?  Pardon  !  but  your  so  rich  and  humorous  lan 
guage,  though  at  times  I  have  talked  it  much,  is  always  full 
of  surprises." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  Eivers  allowed;  "if  that's  all, 
don't  let  me  spoil  your  joke." 

"  You  shall  not  !  "  Peters  promised  him  gravely.  "  But 
this  game,  that  you  say  you  will  be  hanged  if  you  know,  I 
must  teach  it  to  you.  It  is  Patience." 

"  I've  heard  of  it,"  Eivers  allowed,  "  but  it's  a  stupid  sort 
of  game,  I  suppose.  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  you  spend 
your  time  playing  it  all  by  yourself  ?  " 

"  All  by  myself,"  echoed  Captain  Peters,  dealing  a  card 
as  he  spoke. 

"  Most  confounded  slow  !  "  Eivers  suggested.  "  Don't 
you  find  it  so  ?  " 

"  Most  confounded  ! "  echoed  Peters,  and  dealt  another 
card. 


170  MR.    PETERS 

"  What's  the  good  of  it  all  ?  "  asked  Rivers,  bending  over 
to  see  how  the  cards  went. 

"  Ah  !  what's  the  good  ?  "  repeated  Peters,  as  if  these 
questions  had  set  him  questioning  himself. 

"  You  can't  put  money  on  it  ?  "  suggested  the  other. 

"  Not  to  win/'  allowed  Captain  Peters. 

"  Long  to  learn  ?  "  queried  the  other,  satisfied  with  his 
inspection  and  turning  back  to  the  fire  again. 

"  Years,"  Captain  Peters  told  him,  and  dealt  out  his  last 
card. 

"  Good  heavens  !     Well,  have  you  won  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Captain  Peters  gravely,  "  I  have  lost." 

"  Then  what  the  devil  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  Shuffle  the  cards  and  play  again,"  said  the  Captain,  im~ 
perturbably.  "  But  not  now,  my  good  Rivers.  There  is 
the  gong,  and  in  five  minutes  it  will  be  dinner.  I  will 
teach  you  this  game  some  other  day." 

"  I  don't  remember  much  of  these  things,"  Rivers  told 
him,  picking  up  the  pack  and  shuffling  awkwardly,  "  but  I 
daresay  I  could  remember  a  trick  or  two  to  show  you  some 
time  ! " 

"  I  shall  be  most  happy,"  said  Captain  Peters,  who — per 
haps  at  the  thought  of  a  Sunday  dinner — had  suddenly 
grown  much  graver.  "  I  am  always  pleased  to  learn,"  and 
Rivers  emptied  his  glass,  and  they  went  to  the  dining-room 
together. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

MR.    RIVERS  ATTEMPTS   SOME   TRICKS 

THE  pleasing  presence  of  Mrs.  Jimps,  black-silk-gowned 
and  sedately  smiling  at  the  head  of  the  table,  seemed  to 
have  a  cheering  effect  upon  the  company  generally,  on  that 
fog-wrapped  Sunday.  She,  too^  like  Mr.  Peters,  fought  the 
weather  with  drawn  curtains  and  a  blazing  fire,  and  Kivers 
felt  his  spirits  rise  still  further  as  he  looked. 

Eivers,  being  one  of  the  latest  arrivals  among  the  Paying 
Guests,  and  giving  promise  of  being  more  permanent  than 
many,  was  taken  under  Mrs.  Jimps'  wing,  and  sat  at  her 
right  hand.  Mr.  Peters,  in  his  recognized  position  as  senior 
resident,  faced  her,  thus  getting  the  full  benefit  of  the 
smiles  which  she  frequently  cast  that  way,  for  Mr.  Peters,  in 
spite  of,  peril aps  even  partly  because  of,  a  quietly  masterful 
manner,  still  claimed  Mrs.  Jimps'  earnest  consideration. 
He  seldom  troubled  about  trifles.  When  disturbed,  he  pro 
claimed  the  fact  at  once,  openly  and  loudly,  and  having 
carried  his  point,  which,  as  a  rule,  he  did  quickly,  the  cause 
of  complaint  seemed  to  vanish  from  his  mind  altogether, 
and  was  heard  of  no  more.  Then,  too,  he  was  a  tower  of 
strength  in  the  house.  If  an  uncongenial  male  strayed 
temporarily  into  the  place,  as  must  sometimes  happen  in 
the  best-regulated  Houses  of  Residence,  Mr.  Peters  could  be 
reckoned  upon  to  keep  that  male  within  bounds,  or  to  make 
him  feel  the  necessity  for  a  move.  True,  Mr.  Peters  him 
self  occasionally  made  use  of  a  word  or  two  of  which  Mrs. 
Jimps  could  not  approve.  But,  as  she  acknowledged  to 
herself  when  meditating  over  his  virtues  in  her  own  little 
sanctum,  he  used  them  in  such  a  gentlemanly  foreign  way 
that  they  really  wouldn't  frighten  a  child.  In  her  softer 


172  MR.   PETERS 

moments,  when  the  House  of  Residence  was  quiet  for  the 
night,  when  all  necessary  notes  had  been  made  of  things  to 
be  done  on  the  following  day,  when  the  boots  of  the  Paying 
Guests,  reposing  outside  the  bedroom  doors,  mutely  told 
her  that  their  owners  were  safely  settled  until  the  morning, 
when  in  fact  the  worker  could  give  place  to  the  woman,  and 
Head  could  yield  to  Heart,  Mrs.  Jimps  had  found  herself 
acknowledging  coyly  that  Mr.  Peters  as  a  permanent  resi 
dent,  paying  or  no,  would  not  be  unwelcome.  His  very 
boots,  well-made,  strong,  and  not  over  small,  were  master 
ful,  every  nail  of  them,  and  Mrs.  Jimps,  remembering  "  our 
Annie's  "  last  vagary,  or  some  would-be  too  free-and-easy 
Paying  Guest,  or  the  necessarily  weak  points  of  even  the 
bravest  of  women,  would  own,  with  shyness  and  a  sigh  as 
she  made  her  way  to  her  own  bed,  that  the  House  of  Resi 
dence  needed  a  master. 

All  this,  however,  was  locked  beneath  the  ample  black 
silk,  safe  even  from  the  gimlet  eyes  of  "  our  Annie,"  and 
Mr.  Peters  knew  nought  of  it,  but  Rivers,  with  a  veteran's 
keen  appreciation  of  a  good  base  for  operations,  felt  that  his 
lines  lay  in  pleasant  places,  and  endeavored  to  show  his 
feelings  by  what  he  thought  his  most  winning  and  high- 
toned  manner.  It  even  occurred  to  him,  sitting  there  at 
that  Sunday  dinner-table,  that  a  man  of  his  domestic  tastes 
might,  if  greater  schemes  failed,  do  wisely  to  fall  a  little  (it 
certainly,  he  believed,  would  be  a  fall),  and  drop  softly,  into 
the  lap  of  Mrs.  Jimps.  A  quiet  corner  for  himself  in  the 
House  of  Residence,  where  those  whom  he  so  far  honored 
could  share  his  quiet  game  at  whist — or  something  more  ex 
citing — with  modest  refreshers,  was  not  to  be  disdained. 
So  Rivers  was  complimentary,  impressively  complimentary 
to  Mrs.  Jimps.  "What  place  'Melia  took  in  this  vision,  if  she 
entered  it  at  all,  is  not  known. 

"  One  would  be  glad/'  he  said,  under  cover  of  a  general 
conversation,  "  to  relieve  one's  hostess  of  this  trouble,"  and 


MR.    RIVERS  ATTEMPTS  SOME  TRICKS  173 

he  nodded  at  the  sirloin  upon  which  Mrs.  Jimps  was  then 
operating. 

To  be  addressed  as  one's  hostess  was  certainly  pleasant. 
It  showed  that  some  people,  at  least,  recognized  a  difference 
in  such  matters.  It  also  showed  manners,  which  maketh 
man,  and  Mrs.  Jimps,  who  had  not  yet  classified  Rivers, 
marked  him  one  up,  and  smiled  appreciatively. 

"  So  good  of  you  !  "  she  told  him.  "  Many  people  don't 
seem  to  notice,  Mr.  Rivers.  Would  you  mind  tilting  the 
dish  a  little  ?  then  I  can  give  you  some  gravy.  It's  always 
best  from  the  dish,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  Little  home  comforts  and  female  society  are  so  pleas 
ant  to  a  rough  wanderer,"  said  Rivers,  sorry  nevertheless 
that  Mrs.  Jimps  had  asked  him  to  tilt  the  dish,  since  it  ex 
posed  to  view  his  hand  still  ingrained  with  oil  and  coal-dust. 

"  Dear  me,  I'm  always  so  glad  if  we  can  make  our  visitors 
comfortable,"  said  Mrs.  Jimps,  beckoning  Annie  to  bring 
the  vegetables  that  way.  "  Didn't  I  hear  you  say  the  other 
night  that  you  were  a  widower,  Mr.  Rivers  ?  " 

"  A  lonely  man,  ma'am,"  Rivers  told  her;  "  widowed  and 
homeless.  What  is  the  use  of  a  home  with  no  one  to  share 
it?" 

"  Very  true,"  said  Mrs.  Jimps  sympathetically,  and  the 
sentiment  chimed  in  so  far  with  occasional  thoughts  of  her 
own,  that  she  couldn't  help  casting  a  little  glance  down  the 
table  at  Peters,  who  was  making  an  excellent  meal,  as  was 
his  habit. 

"  And  no  family,  I  think,  Mr.  Rivers  ?  "  she  asked,  with 
drawing  her  eyes  quickly,  and  somewhat  disconcerting  that 
gentleman  by  her  question.  If  he  had  been  quite  sure  that 
there  would  be  no  danger  in  repudiating  'Melia,  I  fear  that 
he  would  have  added  a  childless  condition  to  his  other  sor 
rows,  but  although  it  was  agreed  between  Peters  and  him 
self  that  'Melia's  existence  was  not  to  be  mentioned,  yet 
some  day  she  might  turn  up. 


174  MR.   PETERS 

"  One  daughter/'  he  acknowledged,,  "  of  whom,  however, 
I  do  not  see  very  much.  The  young  birds  quit  the  paren 
tal  nest,  Mrs.  Jimps,  when  they  think  their  wings  strong 
enough  to  let  them  see  the  world,  and  make  nests  of  their 
own  " — which  little  admission,  accompanied  by  a  sorrowful 
smile  and  a  shrug,  somehow  gave  Mrs.  Jiinps  the  impression 
of  a  fond  father  heartlessly  deserted  by  his  only  child,  and 
bearing  his  loss  in  sorrowful  but  dignified  silence. 

"  Young  people  go  their  own  way  nowadays,"  she  ad 
mitted.  "  The  world  is  not  what  it  was  when  I  was  young, 
Mr.  Rivers,"  to  which  Rivers,  after  a  respectful  glance,  in 
sisted  that  it  could  scarcely  have  had  time  to  change  since 
that  date. 

Mrs.  Jimps  colored  just  the  least  little  bit,  protesting,  but 
wondering  at  the  same  time  whether  Mr.  Peters  had  the 
same  impression,  and,  feeling  grateful  to  Rivers  for  suggest 
ing  it,  helped  him  liberally  to  more  gravy  from  the  dish, 
when  his  plate  came  to  her  again.  Her  thoughts  turned 
more  or  less  to  these  matters  all  through  the  meal,  though 
she  superintended  as  keenly  as  ever,  and  let  Annie  see  by  a 
glance  that  she  had  found  a  plate  not  so  bright  as  it  should 
be,  and  did  not  fail  to  notice  how  the  last  new-comer  al 
lowed  something  to  drop  on  the  clean,  glossy,  white  table 
cloth.  Before  dinner  was  over  she  decided  that  she  really 
must  know  how  Mr.  Peters'  business  was  progressing,  and 
she  made  up  her  mind  to  ask  him  to-morrow,  while  consult 
ing  him  about  something  else.  The  politeness  with  which 
she  listened  to  Rivers'  tales  of  his  old  college  days,  after 
making  up  her  mind  upon  this  point,  gave  that  sanguine 
gentleman  an  utterly  false  idea  of  the  interest  she  took  in 
him,  and  when  he  entered  Peters'  comfortable  quarters 
again,  which  he  did  directly  after  dinner,  he  even  decided 
that  Peters'  room  would  suit  him  best  when  the  time  should 
come  for  him  to  make  a  choice. 

Peters  this  time  had  invited  a  visit.     Not  pressingly,  but 


MR.    RIVERS   ATTEMPTS  SOME  TRICKS  175 

suggesting  that,  if  the  other  fire  had  not  got  up  properly, 
his  room  might  be  the  more  comfortable.  Rivers,  whose 
mustache  drooped  less  limply,  and  whose  whole  appear 
ance  was  considerably  brighter  than  when  he  had  left 
'Melia,  went  into  his  own  room  as  a  matter  of  form  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  found  a  very  cheerful  blaze  there.  But 
there  was  no  whiskey,  and  there  were  no  cards,  so,  banking 
the  fire  up  carefully  with  cinders,  he  knocked  at  Peters' 
door,  and  announced  his  own  room  as  unendurable. 

"  Then,"  said  Peters  hospitably,  "  come,  and  I  will  teach 
you  Patience  !  "  and  they  set  to  work,  with  a  little  more 
spirits  for  his  visitor,  about  whose  sensitive  throat  the  fog 
was  still  hanging. 

Rivers  watched  politely  through  a  game,  bracing  himself 
to  the  task  with  frequent  sips,  but  was  not  enthusiastic. 

"  You  see,"  he  explained,  "  I  like  a  social  game — or 
did  when  I  played  cards.  Now,  a  game  like  Patience 
doesn't  interest  me — at  least,  not  much.  There's  nothing 
in  it." 

"  That  is  because  you  do  not  understand,"  Peters  told 
him,  chuckling  softly  and  good-naturedly.  "  But  teach  me 
something,  my  good  Rivers,"  and  so  Rivers  tried  to  teach 
him  something. 

He  attempted  one  or  two  card  tricks,  but,  as  he  sorrow 
fully  admitted,  if  he  ever  had  known  the  way  to  manage  the 
cards,  he  seemed  to  have  forgotten.  Peters  could  always 
tell,  laughing  hugely,  and  apparently  much  interested,  what 
had  become  of  the  knave  of  spades  or  whatever  card  Rivers 
tried  to  hide.  When,  too,  there  was  a  dispute  as  to  what 
card  would  turn  up  first  in  the  pack,  things  never  came  as 
Rivers  said  they  would,  which  was  most  annoying,  and 
amused  his  host  tremendously. 

At  last  Peters  suggested  poker  for  a  change,  but  his  vis 
itor  needed  a  good  deal  of  persuasion. 

"  I  have  played,"  he  admitted,  "but  long  ago.     Really, 


176  MR.    PETERS 

now,  I  don't  know  if  I  could  tell  poker  from  euchre — or 
are  they  the  same  ?  " 

"  We  will  attempt  !  "  said  Peters,  shuffling  the  pack;  "  it 
shall  not  be  expensive." 

"  Make  it  counters  !  "  suggested  his  visitor,  at  which 
Peters  roared  again,  and  wouldn't  hear  of  such  a  thing. 

So  Rivers,  protesting  that  he  didn't  want  another  man's 
money,  especially  a  friend's,  if  Peters  would  allow  him  to  say 
so,  was  beguiled  into  a  game  for  a  small  stake.  At  first 
Rivers  won,  and  then  he  played  a  little  longer  to  let  his  host 
win  his  money  back,  and  Rivers  won  more,  which  made 
Peters  insist  upon  continuing  the  game.  So  they  played 
on  until  the  tea-bell  rang,  and  Rivers  got  up  some  few  shil 
lings  to  the  good. 

''  Really,"  he  protested  most  politely,  "  to  come  to  a 
friend's  room,  and  drink  his  whiskey,  and  take  his  money, 
really  it's— 

"  A  what-you-call  swindle,  is  it  not  ?  "  asked  Peters,  un 
moved  by  his  losses  and  slapping  his  guest  upon  the  shoul 
der  as  he  spoke.  "  Tea  !  my  good  Rivers,  and  revenge  an 
other  time." 

"  Oh,  after  tea  if  you  really  wish  it,"  Rivers  told  him, 
"  though  the  cards  seem  against  you  to-night,  don't  they  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Peters  agreed  that  the  cards  seemed  against  him 
that  night.  "  Another  time,"  he  decided,  "  I  will  have  my 
revenge." 

"  You  play  a  very  good  game,"  Rivers  allowed,  "  though 
I  didn't  always  understand  your  reasons  for  playing  the 
card  you  did." 

"  I  am  a  devil  at  cards,"  Peters  asserted,  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  has  unlimited  confidence  in  himself,  "  but  one 
cannot  always  explain  what  makes  one  play  this  card  or 
that  one,"  and  they  went  off  for  their  tea,  dispensed  on 
Sunday  evenings  by  Mrs.  Jimps  in  the  drawing-room,  where 
one  is  not  so  likely  to  make  a  hearty  meal  as  if  one  sat  down 


MR.   RIVERS  ATTEMPTS  SOME  TRICKS  177 

at  the  dining-room  table.  Much  food  being  quite  unneces 
sary  at  five  on  a  Sunday  afternoon,  when  dinner  was  at  one, 
it  was  on  the  whole  very  thoughtful  of  Mrs.  Jimps  to  keep 
temptation  from  those  who,  having  nothing  else  to  do, 
might  otherwise  have  possibly  eaten  more  than  was  good  for 
them. 

After  tea  it  seemed  unlikely  that  the  two  friends  would 
meet  again  that  evening,  but  they  were  fated  to  do  so. 
Eivers  grew  restless  in  his  own  room,  having  been  perhaps 
a  little  excited  by  play.  After  walking  up  and  down  from 
one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other,  he  at  last  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  out,  and  his  feet  wandered  to  Drumsheugh  Gar 
dens.  He  was  looking  at  the  windows  of  No.  45,  when  a 
hand,  softly  laid  upon  his  shoulder,  startled  him.  Twist 
ing  round  with  an  oath  on  his  lips,  he  found  himself  faced 
by  Mr.  Peters,  who  loomed  huge  in  the  fog. 

"  Ah  !  my  good  Eivers,"  said  that  benevolent  gentleman, 
"  this  will  not  do.  What  of  your  throat  in  this  night-air  ? 
Is  your  neck  well  protected,  my  good  Eivers  ?  You  are 
rash,  are  you  not  ?  "  and  he  was  so  politely  concerned  about 
his  friend's  health,  that  he  insisted  upon  escorting  him 
home,  and  talked  to  an  unusual  extent,  and  most  entertain 
ingly,  all  the  way. 

12 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

HALF-CONFIDENCES 

WHILE  Elvers  peered  through  the  fog  at  the  outside  of 
No.  45,  its  owner,  inside,  sat  restless  and  melancholy.  New 
books  lay  at  his  elbow,  but  he  could  not  fix  his  mind  on  any 
one  of  them.  A  large  fire  blazed  before  him  in  a  big  tiled 
grate,  but  the  man  was  chilled  and  cheerless,  and  thought, 
perforce,  of  things  which  he  would  rather  have  forgotten. 

Strange,  foolish,  absurd,  it  was  for  him  to  let  his  memory 
dwell  upon  the  horror  of  a  single  night,  blotted  out,  as  it 
might  have  been,  by  the  days,  the  darkness,  and  the  dreams 
of  twenty-five  years  ;  but  he  was  powerless  to  prevent  it. 
The  man  was  physically  weak,  with  a  weakness  that,  when 
he  had  nothing  of  powerful  and  gripping  interest  immedi 
ately  before  him,  set  his  mind  veering  like  a  weather-cock 
before  the  contrary  winds  of  fancy  and  suggestion.  At  the 
Parliament  House  he  was  still  the  Just  Judge,  dry,  melan 
choly,  unmoved,  save  against  any  attempt  on  the  part  of 
counsel  to  make  words  fill  the  place  of  arguments.  At  home 
he  was  a  silent,  melancholy  figure  ;  silent  because  he  found 
himself  curiously  apt  to  speak  harshly  and  irritably  on  small 
provocation  ;  melancholy  because  of  that,  and  because  of 
the  hidden  thoughts  made  more  bitter  than  ever  by  the  let 
ter  which,  at  this  moment,  he  held  smoothed  out  before  him. 

Who,  that  had  met  him  twenty-five  years  ago,  could  re 
member  and  wish  to  meet  him  again  ?  Whom  could  he  wish 
to  see  ? 

The  unsigned,  typewritten  sheet  was  threatening  in  every 
line,  and  yet  what  could  he  do  but  wait  until  the  writer 
followed  the  letter  ? 


HALF-CONFIDENCES  179 

"  Let  him  follow  it  to  hell  !  "  Lord  Inch  thought,  in  a 
sudden  gust  of  passion,  crumpling  the  thing  to  a  ball,  and 
throwing  it  on  the  fire.  Then  he  snatched  it  away  again, 
and  crushed  out  the  flame  that  had  begun  to  lick  over  the 
edges,  and  he  had  it  again  smoothed  out  before  him  when 
the  door  opened  and  Maitland  was  shown  in. 

The  latter  saw  this  scorched  single  sheet  of  paper  directly 
he  set  foot  in  the  room,  and  saw,  too,  the  hurried  way  in 
which  it  was  folded  and  put  back  into  a  pocket,  but  he  said 
nothing  of  it.  He  spent  the  first  few  minutes  in  saying 
what  he  thought  of  the  weather,  and,  from  that,  naturally 
turned  to  ask  how  it  suited  his  patient. 

"  I  don't  notice  it,"  Lord  Inch  told  him  listlessly ; 
"  there's  a  fog,  isn't  there  ?  " 

"  Ay,  there  is,"  Maitland  answered,  drawing  his  chair 
nearer  to  the  blaze,  and  bending  over  it  with  outstretched 
hands. 

"  The  Cockneys  may  say  what  they  will  of  their  fogs,"  he 
added,  "  and  I've  heard  them  boast  as  though  a  fog  was  an 
Englishman's  glory,  but,  man,  I'd  like  to  set  them  in  the 
Meadows  to-night,  and  bid  them  find  a  way  here.  But  it's 
not  worrying  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  Lord  Inch  told  him,  "  I  saw  it  was  bad  this  morn 
ing  about  church  time,  and  thought  I  wouldn't  go.  I've  not 
looked  out  since." 

"  Had  dinner  all  right,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Eh,  what  ?  No — that  is,  yes,  I  believe.    Yes,  of  course." 

Maitland  saw,  and  indeed  could  not  help  seeing,  the  un 
certainty  with  which  the  man  answered,  but  he  went  on 
without  seeming  to  pay  any  attention. 

"  I  came  in  to  tell  you  what  Mackenzie  said  to  me,  after 
he  saw  you  with  me  the  other  night,"  he  told  his  patient, 
shifting  about  a  little  from  the  fire,  and  facing  Lord  Inch. 

"  Yes  ;  what  does  he  think  ?  "  asked  the  other,  still  to 
all  appearance  concerned  chiefly  about  something  else. 


180  MR.   PETERS 

"  What  he  thinks  and  what  he  says  happen  to  be  the  same, 
with  Mackenzie,"  Maitland  replied,  with  a  grim  little  smile, 
as  if  it  might  not  be  always  so  with  all.  But  the  smile  died 
away  as  he  watched  the  bent  figure  in  the  opposite  chair, 
staring  into  the  fire,  and  he  laid  a  finger  on  the  judge's  arm. 

"  You've  got  to  take  a  little  holiday,"  he  said,  "  just  to  put 
things  right  again,  and  get  out  of  our  hands  quickly." 

"  Nonsense,  man  !  "  returned  the  other,  frowning  peev 
ishly  at  him  ;  "  you  can  patch  me  up  between  you  surely. 
I'll  take  anything  you  like  to  order." 

"  Ay,  I  know  that  well  enough,"  retorted  Maitland,  not 
unkindly.  "  It  surprises  me,  even  yet,  to  see  what  some  of 
you  will  take.  But  it's  rest  you  want  above  all.  Rest  for 
body  and  mind,  and  you  must  have  it."  He  may  have  laid 
stress  on  the  word  "  mind,"  or  the  judge  himself  may  have 
supplied  it. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  I  should  have  rest  by  stopping 
work  ?  How  do  you  know  but  what  I  get  most  rest  when 
I'm  working  my  hardest  ?  " 

Lord  Inch  looked  from  the  fire  at  last,  and  stared  at  Mait 
land  as  he  said  this,  and  Maitland  stared  back  at  him  before 
answering. 

"  I  don't  know,  Inch,"  he  said  at  last.  "  How  should  I  ? 
I'm  too  old  to  make  believe  that  I  can  read  men  like  books, 
and  God  forbid  that  I  should  be  able.  'Twould  be  no 
pleasure.  Most  men  have  their  troubles  that  drugs  can't 
touch,  and  the  knife  can't  relieve.  Then  the  medical  man 
goes,  and  the  old  friend  may  take  his  place." 

"  You  were  always  a  good  fellow,"  the  judge  told  him, 
staring  at  the  fire  again,  but  the  doctor  shrugged  his  shoul 
ders,  and,  getting  up  from  his  chair,  strolled  across  to  the 
bookcase. 

"  You've  a  book  here  that  I'm  going  to  borrow,"  he  said. 
"  See,  I'm  putting  my  card  in  its  place.  What  was  I  say 
ing  ?  I  remember.  Well,  you  know,  folk  come  to  me  with 


HALF-CONFIDENCES  181 

all  sorts  of  tales.  Usually  what  they  have  to  tell  isn't  half 
so  bad  as  they  think.  But  it  eases  their  minds  tremend 
ously,  whether  the  story  is  worth  telling  or  no.  So,  if  there's 
anything  unsettling  you,  that  you  won't  talk  of  to  your 
clerk  and  care  to  chat  about  with  me,  let  me  hear  it  some 
day.  It  might  help  to  pull  you  round  quicker,  though, 
mind  you,  I  don't  know  that,  of  course.  I  wonder  if  it's  as 
bad  as  ever  outside." 

He  went  across  to  one  of  the  two  windows  as  he  spoke, 
and  lifted  a  lathe  of  the  Venetian  blind.  Looking  down  into 
the  night,  for  they  were  on  the  first  floor,  he  became  quiet, 
and  stayed  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  space  he  had  made, 
while  his  friend  answered  from  behind  him. 

"  You're  a  good  fellow,  Maitland.  Yes,  I've  got  my  wor 
ries  that  medicine  can't  touch — like  most  other  men,  as  you 
say.  I'll  have  a  chat  with  you  some  time  perhaps." 

Maitland's  attention  seemed  divided  for  the  moment  be 
tween  Lord  Inch  and  the  window.  He  didn't  answer  at 
once.  Then  he  held  the  blind  apart,  while  he  turned  and 
spoke. 

'"  I  will  admit,"  he  allowed,  with  the  air  of  one  who  was 
making  generous  admissions,  "  that  a  wife  may  be  useful 
that  way.  They  do  say  that  all  women  are  chatterboxes  by 
instinct,  but  that's  unfair.  They  can  keep  their  own  secrets, 
or  their  husbands',  which  is  the  same  thing.  It's  only  other 
people's  business  that  they  must  blab  to  all  the  world.  A 
wife  is  useful,  maybe,  at  times."  Having  made  this  state 
ment,  he  returned  to  his  loop-hole  of  observation. 

The  man  was  not  so  garrulous  as  he  seemed.  He  had  seen 
the  judge  four  or  five  times  since  that  first  interview  in  his 
consulting-room,  and  the  impression  had  grown  upon  him 
that,  at  the  back  of  the  very  serious  and  probably  incura 
ble  disease,  which  was  evident,  his  patient  had  some  other 
trouble,  possibly  curable,  that  made  matters  very  much 
worse. 


182  MR.  PETERS 

Now  that  Lord  Inch  seemed  a  little  more  inclined  to  talk, 
Maitland's  one  object  was  to  keep  the  conversation  going, 
until  the  man  had  gained  confidence  and  made  up  his  mind 
to  say  more.  For  a  certain  amount  of  indecision  was,  in  his 
opinion,  due  to  the  ill-health.  Now,  too,  he  began  to  get 
interested  in  what  was  going  on  outside,  just  below  the 
window. 

At  his  speech  on  the  possible  use  of  a  wife,  the  judge 
laughed  a  little  and  dryly — and  then  made  a  rush  at  the 
subject. 

"  The  fact  is,"  he  said,  "  I  believe  I'm  being  threatened, 
but  I  don't  know." 

"  Ah  !  A  disappointed  litigant  ?  "  asked  Maitland,  still 
looking  out  upon  the  night. 

"  No,  no,  I  pay  no  attention  to  that  sort  of  thing,"  said 
Lord  Inch  impatiently.  "  I  never  did." 

"  Ah  ! "  returned  Maitland,  and  said  no  more  for  the 
moment,  having  all  his  attention  directed  to  something 
else. 

For,  as  he  came  along  the  street,  on  his  way  to  this  house, 
he  had  pushed  against  someone  in  the  thickest  fog,  midway 
between  two  lamps,  and  both  he  and  the  other  figure  had 
apologized.  Then,  for  some  reason  or  another,  perhaps  con 
nected  with  the  damsel  at  No.  4fi,  Morris,  the  footman,  had 
not  hurried  to  answer  Maitland's  pull  at  the  bell,  and,  while 
Maitland  waited,  a  figure  strolled  slowly  past,  following  in 
his  footsteps,  and  looked  up  at  the  door  in  going  by.  Mait 
land  had  his  glasses  on,  and,  standing  with  his  back  to  the 
door,  had  looked  down  upon  a  man's  face,  on  which  a  big 
black  mustache  hung  limp.  Then  the  door  had  been 
opened  by  the  apologetic  Morris,  and  Maitland  thought  no 
more  of  it  until  he  went  to  the  window.  There  he  saw  that 
a  figure  stood,  beneath  the  nearest  light,  looking  at  the 
house,  and,  while  Lord  Inch  talked,  Maitland  watched  that 
figure  and  wondered  what  it  did  there. 


HALF-CONFIDENCES  183 

It  was  a  man,  but  he  stood  too  much  under  the  lamp  for 
Maitland  to  see  the  face. 

"  Threatened  ?  "  he  repeated,  and  lost  the  vague  reply 
that  Lord  Inch  made,  for  at  that  moment  another  figure 
came  within  the  hazy  blur  of  light. 

It  was  a  bigger  form  than  the  first,  and  loomed  huge 
through  the  fog.  It  stood  behind  the  other,  and,  to  Mait- 
land's  mind,  had  a  watchful,  threatening  aspect. 

If  it  had  sprung  upon  the  first  he  would  not  have  been 
surprised.  lie  saw  it  draw  quickly  closer,  and  he  saw  a 
hand  raised.  Then,  before  he  could  make  up  his  mind  to 
run  the  risk  of  startling  Lord  Inch  by  a  shout,  the  hand 
came  down — but  only  upon  the  other's  shoulder. 

Maitland  quietly  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  and,  watch 
ing,  seemed  to  see  that  the  first  man  was  as  much  startled 
as  he  himself  had  been.  The  fellow  jumped  and  turned 
quickly.  In  doing  so  he  came  directly  into  the  light,  which 
fell  upon  his  upturned  face,  and  Maitland  recognized  the 
man  whom  he  had  seen  from  the  doorstep. 

The  two  figures  stood  together  a  moment,  then  turned 
away  together,  the  bigger  man,  whose  face  had  not  been 
seen,  affectionately  clutching  the  other's  arm. 

Then  Maitland,  half-conscious  that  the  judge  was  still 
talking,  forced  his  attention  back  from  those  two  shadowy 
forms,  already  swallowed  up  and  buried  in  the  thick  mist. 

Lord  Inch  was  just  finishing  a  sentence. 

" and  I  may  say,  Maitland,  that  I  have  this  evening 

had  a  stronger  feeling  than  ever  that  there  is  mischief 
afoot." 

.  Maitland  hummed,  and,  coming  back  to  the  fire,  took  up 
his  favorite  attitude  with  an  elbow  on  the  mantel-piece. 
Standing  there  and  looking  down  upon  the  judge,  who  still 
sat  peering  at  the  fire,  he  thought  again  of  those  two  figures 
disappearing  together.  Yes,  there  might  conceivably  be 
mischief  afoot. 


184  MR.    PETERS 

But  what  had  Inch  said  while  he  was  watching  them  ? 

"  I  want  to  be  quite  certain  that  I  heard  you  correctly," 
he  explained.  "  You  think  you're  being  threatened,  but 
you  are  not  sure,  and  you  know  it  has  nothing  to  do  with 
any  Parliament  House  business  ?  " 

"  Quite  so  !  "  Lord  Inch  allowed  that.  "  As  I  said,  if  I'm 
not  mistaken,  and  indeed  if  it  is  anything  at  all,  the  thing 
must  have  its  origin  in  my  transatlantic  days.  Look  at 
that  !  " 

He  thrust  a  hand  into  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat,  and 
drew  out  the  paper,  which  Maitland  recognized  at  once  and 
read  carefully,  while  Lord  Inch  sat  and  watched  him. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  composed!}7,  folding  the  thing  and  hand 
ing  it  back.  "  Some  old  friend." 

"  Man,  man  !  "  said  Inch  almost  fiercely.  "  Is  that  the 
way  a  friend  writes  ?  No  name  !  No  address  !  " 

The  question  was  only  fair,  and  Maitland  felt  embar 
rassed. 

"  Who  else  could  it  be  ?  "  he  asked.  "  You  were  there, 
I've  heard  you  say,  not  much  more  than  a  twelvemonth, 
and  twenty-five  years  ago.  You  had  no  time  to  make 
enemies." 

"  Are  friends  made  quicker  ?  "  almost  snarled  the  other, 
and  Maitland  felt  himself  worsted  again. 

"  How  long  does  it  take  to  make  an  enemy  ?  "  Inch 
muttered,  and  then  fell  into  a  gloomy  fit  of  silence,  that 
Maitland  found  he  must  break  if  anything  more  was  to 
come  of  their  conversation. 

"  You've  told  me  too  much  or  too  little,"  he  decided  at 
last.  "  This  has  not  been  enough  to  help  you,  Inch,  but  it 
suffices  to  trouble  me.  Can  you  say  nothing  more  ?  " 

But  the  other,  looking  up  gloomily,  shook  his  head. 

"  Remember,"  Maitland  urged,  "  I  have  not  pressed  this 
upon  you.  But  now  I  may  do  you  a  serious  wrong,  if  you 
leave  me  to  imagine  what  I  will,  as  the  cause  of  this  trouble." 


HALF-CONFIDENCES  185 

"  It's  of  the  young  fellow  of  twenty-five  that  you  must 
imagine  what  you  will,  then,"  returned  the  other  harshly, 
"  not  of  me." 

"  Ay,  Hector,  but  he  was  my  friend  too  !  "  pleaded  Mait- 
land.  "  A  good  fellow  he  was,  too,  though  a  bit  hard  on 
those  who  didn't  live  as  he  did.  Come,  man  !  Me  or  an 
other,  it's  little  I  care.  But  you  must  let  another  share  your 
secret  and  the  weight  of  it  !  " 

Lord  Inch,  however,  would  not  be  persuaded  that  night, 
and  Maitland  could  see  it  in  his  face. 

"  Another  time,  Maitland,  another  time,"  he  said  rising. 
"  Think  what  you  must,  meanwhile.  Maybe  this  fellow  is, 
as  you  say,  some  old  friend  that  I've  forgotten." 

"  If  it  isn't,  will  you  tell  me  ?  "  asked  Maitland.  "  Me 
or  another  ?  " 

"  You  and  none  other,"  said  Inch.  "  There's  my  hand 
on  it."  And  with  that  Maitland  had  to  be  content. 

"  If  your  correspondent  means  mischief,"  he  said,  as  he 
shook  hands,  "  it's  a  promise  that  I'm  to  know  as  soon  as 
you  do." 

"  It's  a  promise,"  Inch  repeated.     "  Twenty-five  years 
ago,  Maitland,  and  I  was  only  twenty-five  !  " 

Then  Maitland  went  away  down  the  street,  growling  and 
muttering  to  himself  as  he  went,  and  peering  right  and  left 
in  the  hope  of  again  coming  upon  either  of  those  two  un 
canny  figures. 

"  I  sometimes  believe  I'm  a  havering  old  idiot,"  he  told 
himself  as  he  searched  for  his  latch-key,  "  but  there  !  If  I 
was  one  of  those  sharp  chaps,  maybe  folk  wouldn't  tell  me 
as  much  as  they  do.  We're  getting  to  the  bottom  of  it  all 
now,  I  think.  He'll  send  for  me  if  he's  threatened.  Ay, 
ay  !  it's  thirty  years  ago  that  he  and  I  got  capped  together 
in  Arts,"  and  Maitland,  too  restless  to  think  of  bed,  smoked, 
solitary,  until  far  on  into  the  night, 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

A     SUPERIOR    PERSON 

ON  this  highway  of  life,  while  some  hurry  along,  eager  for 
they  scarcely  know  what,  and  busy,  they  hardly  know  why, 
others  listen,  and,  looking  cynically  at  their  fellows  and 
feeling  vastly  superior,  don't  do  very  much  themselves. 

By  being  fully  convinced  of  one's  own  superiority,  one 
can  force  some  others  to  believe  it.  Not  many  maybe,  but 
still  some.  Also,  the  Superior  Person  cannot  be  understood 
by  the  Inferior.  Hence  a  splendid  isolation,  and  the  feeling 
that  one  is  misunderstood,  which  is  a  great  comfort. 

Notwithstanding  this  comfort,  one  seeks  the  sympathy  of 
other  superior  minds,  and  recognizes  them  by  the  fact  that 
they  at  once  see  one's  own  superiority.  They  had  better 
also  proclaim  it,  and  the  louder  the  better. 

The  bother  is  that  some  of  the  less  perfectly  balanced 
among  us,  possibly  the  less  pig-headedly  self-satisfied,  de 
velop  a  craving  for  this  recognition,  turn  aside  into  by-paths 
where  they  think  to  get  it,  and  go  far.  Also,  where  it  is  not 
granted  in  large  doses,  they  are  hurt  immeasurably,  and 
curious  as  to  the  cause  of  this  blindness.  This  was  the  case 
with  Madge  Murray.  She  had  been  spoilt  as  a  child,  with 
the  result  that  now,  as  a  woman,  she  had  a  slightly  disguised 
contempt  for  the  people  who  had  spoiled  her.  With  those 
people  we  have  nothing  to  do.  Madge  had  her  own  friends, 
or,  more  accurately,  her  acquaintances,  her  own  pursuits, 
and  went  her  own  ways.  After  all,  there  is  not  much  that 
can  be  done  to  thwart  a  woman  of  twenty-eight  or  so,  es 
pecially  if  she  has  a  small  independent  income.  So  Madge 
had  found  out,  long  ago,  that  so  long  as  she  made  a  regular 


A  SUPERIOR   PERSON  187 

appearance  at  meals,  or  foretold  her  non-appearance  and 
came  home  at  reasonable  hours  of  night,  there  was  nothing 
much  said.  Her  father,  above  all  things,  hated  "  a  row," 
especially  as  experience  told  him  that  victory  therein  always 
went  the  one  way.  She  had  taken  up  Nell  Moriarty  through 
the  merest  whim,  and  now,  finding  Nell  unprepared  to 
recognize  her  perfection,  was  ready  soon  to  let  the  acquaint 
anceship  die  out.  Interesting  people  were  uncommon,  she 
decided,  at  the  Moriartys'  house.  Tom  was  only  a  student, 
and  not  at  all  bright,  so  she  told  herself  after  finding  that 
he  was  openly  devoted  to  Nell.  Donald  Dee,  the  advocate, 
was  amusing  because  he  paid  such  broad  compliments,  and 
Madge  was  getting  to  like  them  broad.  But  then  he  was  far 
beyond  middle  age,  a  confirmed  bachelor,  and  very  selfish — 
this  last  being  a  vice  which  Madge  abominated — in  others. 
Then  Peters  came  on  the  scene,  and  Madge's  interest  in  the 
Moriartys  grew  a  little  warmer. 

The  first  night  that  they  met,  she  had  thought  him  rather 
a  dull  fool.  He  said  nothing  witty;  in  fact,  he  did  not  seem 
anxious  to  talk  at  all.  If  this  had  been  shyness  it  might 
have  shown  discrimination — for  Madge  considered  she  was 
brilliant  that  night.  But  it  wasn't  shyness,  and  Madge  had 
no  reason,  on  considering  the  matter  afterwards,  for  believ 
ing  that  Peters  was  at  all  overpowered  by  her  charms. 

Then  came  the  meeting  at  Leith  Harbor,  whence  she 
went  in  a  rage  that  served  to  keep  the  imperturbable  Peters 
in  her  mind.  His  indifference  was  a  silent  challenge  which 
should  certainly  be  accepted.  Hence  her  flaming  appear 
ance  on  the  Moriartys'  doorstep,  and  her  interest  in  the 
Parliament  House,  which  she  had  often  visited  before. 
Here  again  Peters  had  baffled  her,  by  simple  indifference, 
and  she  thought  with  na'ive  astonishment  of  the  way  in 
which  he  had  let  pass,  quite  unnoticed,  her  suggestion  con 
cerning  tea  afterwards. 

It  was  on  the  morning  after  the  Sunday's  fog,  which  had 


188  MR.   PETERS 

ended  at  night  with  a  sharp  touch  of  frost,  that  Madge 
turned  these  matters  over  again  in  her  mind  as  she  went 
from  one  shop  to  another  in  Princes  Street,  and  she  was 
thinking  of  the  almost  expressionless  profile  that  had  irri 
tated  her  while  waiting  for  a  turn  at  the  little  bull's-eye  of 
glass  behind  the  Court  that  afternoon,  when  the  man  him 
self  suddenly  passed  her,  moving  more  quickly  than  she,  in 
the  same  direction.  He  bowed,  and  was  passing  on,  when 
Madge  held  out  a  hand. 

"  We  lost  you  in  the  Parliament  House  the  other  day," 
she  told  him.  "  How  was  that  ?  "  and  Peters  shrugged  his 
shoulders  apologetically. 

"  \  stupid  foreigner,"  he  said,  "  in  a  strange  place." 

"  I  think  you  were  tired  of  us,"  Madge  insisted.  "  Very 
natural,  perhaps — but  very  rude  to  show  it.  Come  now,  be 
polite  for  a  few  minutes  to  make  up  for  it,  as  we  are  going 
the  same  way,"  and  Peters  silently  marched  at  her  side. 

He  was  an  aggravating  man,  Madge  felt.  An  un-get-at- 
able  man.  What  was  he  thinking  about  ?  Did  he  think  at 
all,  or  was  the  enormous  solemnity  of  this  handsome  face 
merely  the  result  of  unmitigated  boorishness  and  stupidity  ? 
She  chattered  on  at  a  pace  most  imusual  to  her,  for,  as  a 
rule,  she  liked  the  part  of  supercilious  critic  ;  but  she  got 
merely  the  replies  that  ordinary  courtesy  demanded,  and  at 
last  stopped  talking,  to  see  whether  silence  would  have  a 
better  effect. 

It  had  the  effect  of  making  Peters  halt,  and  raise  his  hat. 

"  I  go  to  a  shop  this  way,"  he  explained,  but  Madge  was 
not  so  easily  daunted. 

"  So  do  I"  she  told  him,  "  so  we  may  as  well  walk  to 
gether  a  little  farther,"  and  they  went  together  up  Fred 
erick  Street,  and  presently  turned  down  the  way  that  we 
have  so  often  been  before. 

Madge,  talking  a  little  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  had 
just  noticed  that,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  beside  a 


A  SUPERIOR  PERSON  189 

bland  wooden  Highlander,  a  red-haired  girl  stood  looking 
this  way  and  that,  when  the  girl  suddenly  began  to  nod  and 
smile  across  in  their  direction.  While  Madge  stared  Peters 
turned  and  bowed.  "  I  go  this  way,"  he  told  her,  and, 
straightway  crossing  the  street,  was  hailed  by  the  red-haired 
girl  as  "  Cap'n  Peters."  Madge  moving  slowly  on,  with  a 
side  glance  at  the  two,  saw  them  go  into  the  shop,  a  tobac 
conist's,  together,  and,  if  her  astonished  ears  did  not  play 
her  false,  the  girl  asked  Peters  who  his  swell  friend  was,  as 
they  went  in. 

"  A  vulgar  fellow  !  "  was  Madge's  verdict,  and  she  passed 
on,  greatly  annoyed,  but,  if  anything,  more  curious  about 
Peters  than  ever. 

Peters,  following  'Melia  into  the  shop,  chose  a  cigar  and 
lighted  it,  payment,  as  usual,  having  been  scrupulously  ex 
acted  by  'Melia. 

"  Your  father  is  not  here  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  round. 

"  No,"  said  'Melia,  and  did  not  offer  any  further  infor 
mation  about  that  gentleman. 

"  You  have  not  seen  him  since  yesterday  morning  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  'Melia  again,  shortly,  and,  turning,  began  to 
rearrange  the  boxes  which  stood  in  the  glass  case  behind  her. 

She  stood  like  this  long  enough  for  Peters,  who  was 
watching  her  curiously,  to  notice  that  there  was  a  great 
change  in  'Melia's  hair.  It  was  certainly  redder,  and  a  very 
pretty  red,  too.  He  said  as  much,  solemnly,  and  'Melia's 
cheeks,  as  she  turned  to  him,  matched  it. 

"  I'm  gittin'  over  my  last  attack  of  influenzy,"  she  told 
him,  and  Peters  congratulated  her  on  a  recovery  from  this 
illness,  of  which  he  had  not  heard  before. 

Suddenly  'Melia  was  frightened. 

"  You're  not  come  to  tell  me  Pa's  ill  ?  "  she  demanded, 
and  was  relieved*  at  Peters'  unsympathetic  laughter. 

"  The  good  Rivers  !  "  he  ejaculated  ;  "  I  have  not  seen 
him  to-day,  but  he  will  be  well." 


190  MR.    PETERS 

"  I  was  lookin'  for  him  when  you  came,"  'Mclia  explained. 
"  I've  got  used  to  his  turning  in  to  see  me  of  a  morning. 
Pa's — father,  I  mean,  is  very  good  that  way.  It  struck  me, 
sudden,  that  you'd  come  to  tell  me  something." 

But  Peters  declared  he  had  no  bad  news,  and  moved 
to  the  door  that  he  might  see  if  her  father  was  near. 

"  I  came  because  of  that  woman  who  was  with  me,"  he 
told  'Melia,  tapping  her  friend  "  Sandy  "  on  the  head,  as  he 
spoke,  to  test  his  solidity. 

"  For  shame,  Cap'n  Peters,"  said  'Melia  ;  "  she's  a  perfect 
picture." 

"  I  do  not  care  for  pictures,  when  they  must  always  talk," 
Peters  told  her.  "  See,  here  comes  the  good  Eivers." 

It  was  certainly  Rivers  coming  down  the  street,  with  a 
small  parcel  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  a  cane,  which  he 
twirled  with  a  jaunty  air.  On  waking  that  morning,  he  had 
been  so  pleased  to  think  of  the  friendly  and  familiar  rela 
tions  which  he  was  establishing  with  Peters,  that  he  thought 
kindly  of  'Melia,  and  resolved  to  bring  a  peace-offering — 
paid  for,  so  it  happened,  out  of  his  last  night's  winnings. 

He  came  in  now,  with  a  friendly  nod  to  Peters,  and  giv 
ing  a  kiss  to  'Melia,  who  greeted  him  carefully  as  "  Father," 
he  put  down  the  parcel,  and,  with  an  air  of  gay  mystery, 
told  her  to  guess  what  was  in  it. 

"  Me  !  "  said  'Melia.  "  What  for,  pa  ?— I  mean,  father  ;  " 
but  Rivers  continuing  to  nod  and  smile  graciously,  she 
picked  it  up,  and  first  felt  it  all  over,  then  smelt  it. 

"  Who's  it  for  ?  "  she  asked,  suspiciously,  at  last,  looking 
up  at  the  benignant  Rivers. 

"  A  young  lady  I  know,"  he  told  her.    "  Open  it." 

So  'Melia  opened  it,  and  a  pair  of  cycling  shoes  dropped 
out,  much  to  her  delight. 

"  For  me  ?  "  she  screamed,  clutching  at  them.  "  Oh,  pa ! 
- — father  I  mean,  you're  too  good." 

This  was  said  with  a  fervor  which  was  perfectly  sincere. 


A  SUPERIOR   PERSON  191 

and  which  pleased  Rivers  uncommonly.  After  all,  perhaps, 
kindness  and  gratitude  are  relative  terms.  A  wife  who  is 
kicked  six  nights  a  week  by  her  lord  and  master  may  think 
him  kind,  and  will  almost  certainly  be  grateful,  if  he  leave 
her  unkicked  on  the  seventh.  'Melia,  who  had  been  left  to 
her  own  devices  for  so  long,  and  who  owed  nothing  to  her 
father's  care,  was  quite  unbalanced  by  this  unprecedented 
behavior,  and  her  extravagant  gratitude  caused  such  a  glow 
ing  sense  of  self-denial  and  generosity  in  her  father's  breast, 
that  he  promised  himself  to  renew  it,  if  Peters  continued  to 
be  as  much  of  a  fool  at  cards  as  he  had  been  hitherto. 

It  was  enough  to  make  one  wonder  whether,  after  all, 
consistent  kindness  gains  more  gratitude  in  the  end  than  a 
tolerable  amount  of  neglect,  varied  by  an  occasional  sur 
prise.  Speculation  might  go  farther,  and  ask  whether  the 
first  gives  more  happiness  than  the  second.  But  Rivers  did 
not  carry  his  considerations  so  far,  and  what  Peters  thought 
about,  as  he  puffed  his  cigar  on  the  red  settee  where  he  was 
resting,  no  one  knew. 

"  Xow,  I  wonder,"  said  'Melia,  looking  out  at  the  frosty 
street,  "  when  I  shall  use  'em  !  " 

She  dived  behind  the  curtain,  and  reappeared  with  the 
shoes  on.  A  cheap  pair,  white,  high-heeled,  and  a  trifle 
tight  across  the  toes.  But  they  were  lovely,  so  'Melia  de 
clared,  with  a  private  resolve  to  get  them  stretched,  and  she 
ached  to  use  them,  almost  as  much  as  she  would  certainly 
ache  after  she  had  done  so. 

Neither  of  the  two  men  answered  her  immediately.  Her 
father  had  no  intention  to  make  her  any  more  presents 
just  now,  and  Peters  made  no  move  until  'Melia  looked  at 
him  appealingly. 

"  If  you  like,"  he  told  her  at  last,  "  you  can  have  the  same 
again,  and — my  want  of  exercise  is  great." 

"  There  !  d'you  hear  that,  pa  ? — father,  I  mean.  Cap'n 
Peters  '11  take  me  out  again.  Ain't  he  kind  ?  " 


192  MR.   PETERS 

"  H'm  !  ha  !  yes,"  Rivers  began,  ready  for  'Melia  to  have 
a  pleasure  that  didn't  cost  him  anything,  and  ready  also  to 
keep  her  on  the  friendliest  terms  with  Peters,  but  trying,  in 
a  vague,  groping  way,  to  decide  whether  this  would  seem  to 
be  the  correct  thing. 

"  You'll  come  down  and  see  me,  pa — father  ?  "  said 
'Melia,  and,  feeling  that  that  was  enough,  Eivers  graciously 
gave  his  permission,  which,  strictly  speaking,  hadn't  been 
asked.  He  said  that  he  must  superintend  his  little  girl's 
progress,  but,  of  course,  he  never  went.  'Melia  did,  how 
ever,  regularly  through  the  next  week,  always  turning  up 
at  an  hour  which  was  too  dark  to  do  anything,  and  always 
pegging  away  until  she  had  to  scurry  for  the  shop.  After 
eight  days  of  it,  in  short  snatches,  she  went  alone,  gasping 
and  with  great  joy.  Then  the  mornings  were  too  dark  to  do 
anything  before  shoptime,  but  'Melia  could  ride,  and  man 
aged  on  one  or  two  fine  Sundays  to  secretly  get  away  alone, 
and  to  plod  on  in  a  way  that  proved  her  independence. 


CHAPTER  XXV 
'MELIA  RECEIVES  VISITORS 

THROUGH  all  these  exciting  times  'Melia  had  often 
thought  of  Archie  Inch.,  and  wondered  why  he  never  came 
near  the  little  tobacconist's  shop.  She  took  an  interest  in 
him  which,  at  that  time,  was  almost  motherly,  for  she  was 
only  a  year  younger  than  he,  and  that  meant  that  in  ex 
perience  she  was  a  great  deal  older.  Archie,  who  used  to 
chatter  freely  as  he  leant  over  the  counter,  had  told  her  long 
ago  that  his  mother  was  dead,  and  'Melia,  who  knew  very 
well  that  in  losing  hers  she  had  lost  her  best  friend,  pitied 
Master  Archie  far  more  than  he  pitied  himself. 

He,  on  his  side,  was  thinking  a  great  deal  about  'Melia. 
At  first  he  stayed  away  because  he  was  vexed  with  her,  and 
meant,  as  he  said  to  himself,  to  bring  her  down  a  peg.  But 
reflection  told  him  that  he  was  far  more  likely  to  come  down 
than  she  was,  and  he  respected  her  the  more  for  the  very 
independent  manner  which  she  showed — even  to  the  rous 
ing  of  his  temper — whenever  he  was  inclined  to  patronize. 

So  he  very  soon  made  up  his  mind  to  look  in,  and  to  make 
friends,  which  he  knew  would  be  an  easy  matter.  For  'Melia 
bore  no  malice,  and  was  as  free  and  frank  in  her  forgiveness 
as  she  was  in  her  wrath.  But  still  he  did  not  go.  For  one 
thing  he  was  working  for  his  Arts  degree,  and  even  the  Arts 
students  of  Edinburgh  have  to  work  sometimes. 

For  another  thing,  the  young  fellow  had  been  very  much 
sobered  by  a  chat  with  Maitland,  who,  meeting  him  in 
Drumsheugh  Gardens  one  day,  had  invited  him  in,  and 
talked  gravely  of  Lord  Inch's  condition. 

Maitland  had  no  particular  liking  for  Archie.     He  had 

13 


194  MR.    PETERS 

some  prejudice  against  him,  in  fact,  because  of  Archie's 
resemblance  to  his  dead  mother,  who,  so  Maitland  believed, 
had  kept  two  old  friends  apart. 

But  Maitland  had  to  acknowledge  to  himself  that  Archie 
took  the  news  like  a  man. 

"  You  understand,  my  boy,"  he  told  him,  "  all  I  say  is 
that  your  father  is  not  so  strong  as  he  was,  or  as  he  should 
be,  and  I  think  you've  a  right  to  know  it.  He  may  do  very 
well  for  a  time,  and  after  the  New  Year  he  promises  us  he'll 
take  a  rest.  But  meanwhile  you've  got  to  be  very  careful 
of  him." 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  "  Archie  asked,  naturally  enough,  and 
Maitland  wished  he  could  tell  him  of  the  letter.  This,  how 
ever,  could  not  be,  and  Maitland  knitted  his  brows,  rubbing 
the  side  of  his  nose  reflectively,  and  wondering  how  far  he 
could  go. 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I  mind,  when  I  was  a  youngster, 
I  always  wanted  to  have  a  hand  in  all  that  was  going,  and  I 
daresay  folk  thought  me  a  wild  loon  at  times.  Keep  yourself 
well  in  hand,  Archie,  and  avoid  the  appearance  of  evil  just 
now,  of  all  times,  for  your  father's  sake.  If  someone  came 
along  and  told  him  you  were  in  bad  company — and  there's 
plenty  will  say  a  thing  like  that  for  little  enough — or  if  you 
chanced,  by  ill-luck,  to  be  heard  of  at  the  Police  Court  for 
any  bit  row  (I  was  there  myself  once,  for  there  are  times 
when  a  fellow's  hand  must  guard  his  head),  why,  anything 
like  that,  coming  upon  him  unawares,  might  just  fell  him 
as  a  bullock  is  felled  in  the  slaughter-house  yonder.  More 
than  that,"  he  went  on,  with  a  band  on  Archie's  shoulder, 
"  a  man  in  your  father's  position  has  enemies  always.  Let 
him  see,  Archie,  my  man,  that  if  he's  got  trouble  abroad, 
there's  peace  at  home." 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  Archie  had  asked,  curiously. 

'•'  I  don't  know,  but  it's  always  so.  A  man's  never  up, 
but  you  may  be  sure  some  one  wants  him  down.  It's  the 


'MELIA   RECEIVES   VISITORS  195 

way  of  the  world,  man,  and  the  penalty  of  getting  up  in  it. 
Say  nothing  to  him  of  all  this,  for  you'll  do  no  good,  and 
maybe  vex  him,  but  just  see  that  nothing  troubles  him  that 
you  can  prevent,  till  the  New  Year  comes,  and  a  holiday 
with  it.  For  a  holiday  he  shall  have  then,  or  I'll  eat  my 
diploma,"  with  which  blood-curdling  threat  Maitland  shook 
Archie's  hand  more  cordially  than  he  had  done  at  meeting, 
and  sent  him  away. 

This,  then,  was  another  reason  why  'Melia  had  not  seen 
him.  For  Archie,  glancing  covertly  at  his  father  during 
dinner  that  same  evening,  saw  changes  that  he  had  not 
noticed  before,  and  that  he  by  no  means  liked.  It  seemed 
to  him  that,  ever  since  their  holiday  (which,  by  the  by,  he 
had  voted  uncommonly  slow),  his  father  had  aged.  His 
hair  was  decidedly  grayer,  his  face  more  yellow,  and  there 
was  less  color  than  ever  in  the  thin,  tight  lips.  A  cover 
fell  during  dinner  that  night,  and  Archie,  looking  at  his 
father  that  very  moment,  saw  how  he  started  almost  before 
it  touched  the  ground,  and,  half  turning  in  his  chair  with  an 
angry  frown,  opened  his  mouth  to  scold  the  unlucky  ser 
vant,  and  then  closed  it  again,  and  kept  it  closed  without 
having  said  a  word,  as  if  he  felt  the  need  of  saying  nothing, 
lest  he  should  say  too  much. 

After  that  Archie  gave  his  father  more  consideration  than 
he  had  ever  done  before.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  start 
conversations  at  dinner,  trying  to  be  regardless  of  the  some- 
M'hat  contemptuous  replies  which  he  often  received,  and  he 
gradually  found  that  his  father's  sarcasms  were  not  so  ter 
rible  as  he  used  to  think  them.  Then  he  went  farther,  one 
night  when  Lord  Inch  was  particularly  friendly,  and  asked 
whether  he  might  bring  his  books  to  the  study  and  read 
there.  Leave  was  given,  though  with  raised  eyebrows, 
which  expressed  a  kind  of  polite  surprise  quite  as  well  as 
words  could.  He  flushed  a  little,  but  sat  there  for  the  even 
ing,  and  the  next  night  Lord  Inch  asked  if  he  were  coming 


196  MR.    PETERS 

again,  which  Archie  thought  was  intended  for  an  invitation, 
and  worked  at  the  table  in  the  study  that  night,  and  for 
several  nights  after.  While  he  read,  Lord  Inch  frowned 
over  processes  sent  down  in  his  bag  from  the  Parliament 
House,  or  sat  staring  into  the  fire.  A  night  came,  however, 
when  Archie's  self-imposed  duties  pressed  hard  upon  him, 
and,  after  he  had  been  working  for  perhaps  half  an  hour,  he 
rose  to  go  out. 

His  father  looked  up,  and  asked  where  he  was  going. 

"  I  want  a  walk,"  Archie  told  him,  "  and  I'm  going  to  get 
some  tobacco." 

"  There  are  cigars  there,"  Lord  Inch  told  him,  nodding 
towards  a  little  cabinet  near  the  mantel-piece,  but  Archie 
said  he  wanted  a  pipe,  and  went  out,  while  his  father  turned 
to  his  papers  again  without  any  further  comment. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Archie  passed  the  door  which  was 
guarded  by  his  old  acquaintance  Sandy,  feeling  so  cheered, 
by  this  little  excursion,  that  he  winked  amicably  at  that 
silent  individual,  as  he  went  in.  'Melia,  alone  and  a  trifle 
dull,  was  so  much  taken  by  surprise,  that  she  had  greeted 
him  cordially,  and  with  a  beaming  smile,  before  she  remem 
bered  the  distant  terms  upon  which  they  had  parted.  Then 
she  drew  herself  up  a  little  stiffly. 

"  D'you  want  the  same  as  you  used  to  have,  Mr.  Inch  ?  " 
she  asked  politely,  with  an  air  that  suggested  a  lapse  of 
centuries  since  his  last  visit. 

"  The  'baccy,  not  the  cigarettes,  please,"  Archie  told  her, 
and  put  down  his  pouch  upon  the  counter. 

'Melia  gave  a  little  sniff  at  it,  before  she  put  the  tobacco 
in. 

"  We  sell  that  mixture  too,"  she  informed  him  with  em 
phasis.  "  Would  you  prefer  it  ?  " 

"  No,  thanks,"  Archie  told  her,  staring  a  little,  "  I'd 
rather  have  Dream  Mixture,  please." 

"  Very  well,"  said  'Melia.     "  It's  a  pity  it  isn't  sold  in 


'MELIA   RECEIVES   VISITORS  197 

more  places  than  one.  It's  such  a  long  way  for  you  to  come 
for  it," 

"  It  only  takes  me  about  ten  minutes/'  Archie  answered, 
filling  his  pipe  as  he  spoke. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  'Melia,  with  an  air  of  polite  surprise,  "  why, 
I  thought  it  took  near  a  fortnight/'  at  which  Archie 
burst  out  laughing,  and  'Melia,  pleased  to  see  that  the 
point  was  appreciated,  smiled  somewhat  more  cordially 
upon  him. 

"  I'm  an  ass,"  Archie  confided  to  her  ;  "  I  should  have 
been  in  before  to  tell  you  I  knew  it,  but  my  governor's 
seedy  ;  I've  scarcely  been  out  any  evening  after  dinner. 
Busy  too,  working  for  an  exam." 

"  That'll  be  no  trouble  to  you,  Mr.  Inch,  I'm  sure,"  said 
'Melia.  "  I  mean  the  examinations,  of  course.  But  I'm 
sorry  to  hear  about  your  pa — father  I  mean." 

"  Oh,  he'll  get  a  holiday  soon,  and  the  doctors  '11  put 
him  all  right  again  then,"  said  Archie,  puffing  away  philo 
sophically. 

"  I  can  feel  what  it  must  be  like  to  be  anxious  about  him," 
'Melia  said  sympathetically,  "  since  I  got  mine  back." 

"  Your  what  ?  " 

"  My  father,"  said  'Melia,  with  some  dignity.  "  A  Uni 
versity  gentleman  like  yourself,  Mr.  Inch,  only  Oxford." 

"  The  deuce  !  "  said  that  astonished  youth,  staring  more 
than  ever.  "  I  mean,  I  thought  you  were  an  orphan,  Miss 
Rivers." 

"  So  I  might  have  been,"  returned  'Melia  rather  vaguely, 
"  and  I  didn't  know  but  what  I  was.  I  didn't  care  to  boast 
much  of  my  people  till  I  could  point  to  'em  if  needs  be.  But 
you  do  stare  !  It's  not  so  wonderful  as  all  that,  is  it  ?  " 

"  It's  not  that  I  was  looking  at,"  Archie  said  admir 
ingly.  "  By  Jove,  what  splendid  hair  you've  got,  Miss 
Rivers.  Is  it  the  light,  or  what  ?  Why  it  looks  just  like 
what  I  saw  in  pictures  abroad  last  summer.  Or  is  it  your 


198  MR.    PETERS 

dress  ?  If  your  father  has  come  back,  what  are  you  in  black 
for  ?  " 

"  Well,  it's  quieter,"  'Melia  told  him,  rather  pleased  that 
he  noticed  the  difference.,  "'  and  the  old  velveteen  was 
rubbed  to  bits  at  the  elbows  through  leaning  on  the  counter, 
talking  to  you,  /  believe." 

"  I  wish  you'd  let  me  give  you  a  new  one  then,"  said 
Archie,  "  though  1  must  say  I  like  the  black  best — it  looks 
so  -  "  he  was  going  to  say  "  lady-like,"  but  stopped  in 
time  lest  that  too  might  cause  trouble,  and  said  "pretty"  in 
stead,  and  'Melia  was  pleased  because,  after  a  little  consulta 
tion  with  Nell,  she  had  set  off  a  black  dress  with  big  white 
cuffs  and  wide  collars,  the  ironing  of  which  had  given  her 
considerable  trouble. 

"  But  your  hair  ?  "  Archie  insisted,  looking  admiringly 
at  that  abundant  ornament,  which  was  now  entirely  free 
from  artificial  color.  The  young  man  is  either  very  bold — 
or  else  very  innocent — who  ventures  to  ask  questions  upon 
such  a  subject,  but  Archie's  admiration  was  so  open  that 
'Melia  didn't  mind  very  much. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  recollecting  the  answer  she  had  given  to 
Peters,  "  I've  got  over  the  influenzy.  They  say  that  makes 
a  world  of  difference  to  the  hair.  I'm  glad  mine  didn't  fall 
out.  Then,  too,"  she  added,  with  some  little  effort,  for 
'Melia's  ideas  were  changing  in  other  matters  than  those  of 
dress,  "  I'm  usin'  a  different  lotion.  Maybe  the  last  was 
colorin'  it  a  bit." 

"  And  are  you  going  to  drop  the  shop  ?  "  asked  Archie, 
looking  round  discontentedly.  But  'Melia  shook  her  head. 

"  There's  no  hurry,"  she  told  him.  "  Father's  come  over 
on  business,  which  may  be  good,  and  then  which  may  not. 
I'm  well  treated  here,  and  here  I  stay,  till  I  know  what 
comes  next." 

"  It's  cosier  than  it  was,"  Archie  allowed,  admiring  the 
tobacco  plant  and  some  cut  flowers,  while  a  dark,  warm- 


'MELIA   RECEIVES   VISITORS  199 

looking,  new  curtain  hid  'Melia's  little  sanctuary  from 
him. 

"  But  what  will  your  dad  say  ?  "  he  went  on.  "  Oxford 
men  don't  care  to  have  —  -  I  mean.,  he'll  be  wanting  you 
to  keep  house  for  him  !  " 

"  There's  no  house  to  keep  yet,"  'Melia  explained,  "  and 
p'r'aps  there  won't  be,  you  know.  A  gentleman  may  be  a 
gentleman  all  round,  and  yet  stay  poor,  you  know,  Mr. 
Inch." 

"  That's  true,"  Archie  said,  quite  cordially,  "  and  I  hope 
you  won't  think  of  running  away,  Miss  Rivers." 

"  Well,"  'Melia  allowed,  "  I'm  not  going  to-morrow.  As 
for  when  I  may  go,  here's  father,  and  he  knows  more  about 
it  than  I  do,"  and  Archie,  turning  from  where  he  lounged 
over  the  counter,  still  lost  in  admiration  of  the  red  hair, 
found  the  benevolent  Rivers  looking  at  him  curiously  from 
the  doorway,  while  on  Rivers'  heels,  following  him  like  an 
amiable  shadow,  came  a  big,  dark,  foreign-looking  man, 
with  a  sleepy,  placid,  clean-shaven  face — no  other,  in  fact, 
than  Mr.  Peters. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

CONCERNING   VARIOUS   TOASTS 

'MELIA  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  this  strange  trio, 
and  seemed  a  little  puzzled. 

"  Fact  is,"  she  announced  presently,  "  I  s'pose  I  should 
introduce  you,  gentlemen.  Father,  this  is  Mr.  Archie  Inch, 
a  regular  customer  of  mine.,  and  a  University  gentleman  like 
yourself.  Mr.  Archie  Inch — my  father  ;  and  this  is  Cap'n 
Peters — come  in,  Cap'n  Peters,  there's  room  for  a  little  one 
— and  Cap'n  Peters  has  been  everywhere  I  believe,  Mr.  Inch, 
and  knows  most  things,  it  seems  to  me,  though  he  doesn't 
talk  about  it,  and  I  don't  know  if  he's  a  University  gentle 
man  ;  and  now  you  all  know  each  other,  and  whether  there's 
room  for  the  three  of  you  on  that  old  settee,  or  whether  it'll 
break  up,  bein'  of  a  weak  constitution,  if  you  all  sit  down 
on  it  together,  I  can't  tell  till  you've  tried." 

Having  got  this  far,  'Melia  stopped  for  breath,  and  her 
father  held  out  an  affable  hand,  while  Peters  bowed  sol 
emnly  in  the  background. 

"  Of  Oxford  ?  "  asked  Eivers,  taking  the  hand  of  the  not- 
very-eager  Archie. 

"  Edinburgh." 

"  Ah  !  her  northern  sister  !  "  said  Rivers,  still  affable, 
but  now  with  a  distinct  touch  of  condescension.  "  I  hope 
to  go  over  your  University  some  day,  Mr.  Inch.  You  lose 
a  great  deal,  my  dear  sir,  by  your  non-collegiate  system. 
It  destroys  esprit  de  corps.  Have  you  ever  been  to  Oxford, 
Mr.  Inch  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  "  said  Archie,  with  some  asperity,  "  I  went  down 
in  the  Rugger  team  that  beat  'em  last  year,"  after  which,  for 


CONCERNING   VARIOUS   TOASTS  201 

a  moment,  there  was  silence,  while  Archie  condemned 
Rivers  as  an  old  Bounder,  and  Rivers,  surveying  the  son  of 
his  intended  victim,  wondered  how  he  could  be  made  useful. 
He  knew  quite  well,  without  any  help  from  'Melia,  who 
Archie  was.  Like  Peters,  he  had  seen  him  go  in  and  out  of 
No.  45,  and  'Melia  had  spoken  of  him  casually,  when  Rivers 
was  questioning  her  in  idle  curiosity  concerning  her  cus 
tomers. 

"  Well,"  said  'Melia,  proud  at  being  able  to  show  her 
respectable  parentage,  and  hospitably  anxious  to  honor  the 
occasion,  "  as  Mr.  Inch  knows  very  well,  this  is  all  of  my 
establishment  that  a  customer  ever  sees,  but  I  don't  know 
that  it'll  hurt  trade,  if  I  throw  the  whole  place  open  to  you 
gentlemen  for  one  night  only.  I  shut  soon  now,  anyway, 
and  p'r'aps  if  you'll  come  in  a  little  farther,  Mr.  Peters, 
unless  you're  shy  to-night,  and  close  that  there  door,  and 
pull  this  curtain  back,  then  some  can  sit  inside  and  some 
out  here,  and  you'll  all  get  more  room,  and  be  able  to  talk 
just  as  well." 

"  I  ought  to  be  going,"  said  Archie  doubtfully,  but  when 
'Melia  said,  "  Oh,  don't,  Mr.  Inch,  please  !  "  and  looked  at 
him  in  a  more  friendly  way  than  she  generally  did,  he  said 

that  he  supposed  he  could  spare  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and 

sat  down. 

"  You  can  tell  me  about  my  old  college,  Balliol,"  said 

Rivers  sentimentally. 

"  I  didn't  see  it,"  Archie  told  him.    "  There  was  too  much 

on  for  us,  while  we  were  there." 

"  Well,  well  !  "    Rivers  shook  his  head  mournfully,  and 

seemed  quite  hurt.    "  Fancy  bejng  at  Oxford  without  going 

over  Balliol  !    Dear  me  !   I'd  like  to  drink  to  Balliol  if  we 

were  in  my  little  diggings." 

"  There's  a  kettle,  that  I'll  boil  in  a  minute  !  "    'Melia 

chimed  in,  hospitably.    "  I'll  make  you  all  a  lovely  cup  of 

tea,"  and  couldn't  understand  what  amused  them  so  much. 


202  MR.   PETERS 

"  It  would  certainly  be  a  change,"  Rivers  allowed.  "  I 
don't  suppose  that  Balliol  has  ever  been  toasted  in  tea  yet. 
But  wait !  "  A  sudden  idea  struck  him  and  he  made  for  the 
door,  after  borrowing  five  shillings  for  half  an  hour  from 
Mr.  Peters.  "  Put  the  kettle  on,  my  dear  Em'ly  !  "  he  told 
her,  and  disappeared,  while  'Melia  stared  from  Peters  to 
Archie  and  back  again. 

"  What's  up  ?  "  she  asked,  and  Archie  shook  his  head  ; 
but  Peters,  settling  down  on  the  red  settee  and  puffing  great 
clouds,  said,  "  Whiskey  !  "  which  was  the  first  word  he  had 
spoken  since  he  came  in,  and  which,  being  very  much  to  the 
point,  and  echoing  deeply  through  the  little  place,  rather 
impressed  x\rchie,  who  now  bestowed  upon  Mr.  Peters  the 
attention  hitherto  monopolized  by  Rivers.  As  for  Peters, 
he  enveloped  himself  in  smoke,  through  which  his  eyes 
studied  Archie  unwinkingly,  while,  to  Archie's  dismay,  he 
chatted  like  an  old  friend  with  'Melia,  who  seemed  to  allow 
him  to  do  so  on  a  much  more  friendly  footing  than  Archie 
could  ever  get.  His  disgust  reached  a  climax  when  Peters 
inquired  with  solicitude,  concerning  a  fall  'Melia  had  got 
from  her  bicycle,  on  the  previous  Sunday.  Archie  was 
glaring  reproachfully  at  'Melia,  who  was  not  so  unconscious 
as  she  seemed,  when  Rivers  returned  jubilant. 

"  I  think,"  he  told  them,  "  that  we  might  now  honor 
Balliol,  if  you  will  join  me.  Here  is  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
the  National  Beverage,"  and,  as  Peters  had  predicted,  he 
brought  out  a  bottle  of  whiskey.  He  also  produced  three 
toddy-glasses.  "  To  be  returned,"  he  told  them.  "  Em'ly, 
my  dear,  you  will  make  yourself  a  cup  that  cheers  but  not 
inebriates.  Here  is  also  a  lemon,  and  I  presume  that,  for 
those  who  like  it,  you  can  supply  sugar.  Balliol  ought  to 
have  had  champagne,  but  her  sons  can  but  offer  libation  of 
the  best  they  can  afford."  He  sighed  at  the  thought  of 
such  scant  honors  for  Balliol,  but  brightened  as  he  drew 
the  cork,  and  sampled  the  whiskey  before  venturing  to  offer 


CONCERNING  VARIOUS  TOASTS  203 

it  for  general  use.  "  'Twill  serve/'  he  told  them,  and  fell  to 
telling  Archie  the  exploits  of  his  youth,  while  they  waited 
for  the  kettle  to  boil.  That  young  man,  however,  was  not 
so  attentive  as  he  should  have  been,  considering  the  im 
portance  of  the  subject.  He  answered  rather  at  random, 
when  he  answered  at  all,  and  Rivers,  though  inwardly  vot 
ing  him  an  unlicked  cub,  was  interested  to  notice  that  it 
was  'Melia's  chatter  to  her  friend  "  Cap'n  "  Peters  which 
distracted  Archie's  attention. 

"  In  the  States,"  he  said,  a  propos  of  uncomfortable 
quarters  as  compared  with  life  at  Balliol,  "  one  must  rough 
it." 

He  repeated  this  valuable  information  a  little  more  care 
fully  since  Archie  took  no  notice  of  it,  and  when  the  latter 
at  last  paid  attention,  he  added,  "  Have  you  ever  been  there, 
Mr.  Inch  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Archie,  wondering  what  on  earth  'Meiia 
found  to  interest  her  in  Peters'  conversation.  "  My  father 
has,"  he  added,  as  an  afterthought. 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  "  Rivers  was  much  interested. 
"  You  don't  happen  to  know  where  he  was  ?  "  he  asked, 
but  got  no  more  information.  "  All  over  the  place,"  was 
Archie's  reply.  As  the  kettle  was  now  hissing  loudly,  and 
Peters  had  ceased  talking  with  'Melia,  Kivers  stopped  too, 
not  being  quite  decided  how  far  to  press  his  questioning, 
and  suggested  refreshment.  So  the  three  glasses  were  filled, 
and  Rivers  having  proposed  "  Balliol  ! "  it  was  drunk 
though  not  with  any  great  enthusiasm.  Then  he  insisted 
that  each  should  propose  a  toast,  and  Archie  straightway 
suggested  "  The  Ladies."  Peters  being  pressed  for  his 
sentiments,  was  meditative,  and  being,  as  he  announced, 
"  a  most  damnably  stupid  foreign  man,"  took  some  time 
to  think  of  anything  suitable.  He  at  last  proposed,  "  May 
we  all  get  what  we  deserve  !  "  which  was  the  most  popular 
toast  of  the  three,  and  was  drunk  with  great  applause,  be- 


204  MR.    PETERS 

sides  being  warmly  praised  by  Rivers  as  "  quite  English  !  " 
This  way  of  putting  it,  however,  evoked  a  protest  from 
Archie,  who,  there  being  no  heeltaps,  had  now  swallowed 
three  stiff  glasses,  all  prepared  for  him  by  Rivers.  He 
wished,  in  place  of  the  word  "  English,"  to  substitute  "  Brit 
ish,"  and  got  angry  because  he  found  "  British  "  a  difficult 
word  to  negotiate.  He  produced  it,  however,  at  last,  with 
gravity  and  extraordinary  distinctness,  and  was  proceeding 
to  argue  with  Rivers  upon  the  merits  of  their  respective  uni 
versities,  when  'Melia,  who  had  watched  the  proceedings 
rather  anxiously,  declared  that  she  must  close  the  shop  at 
once. 

As  she  proceeded  to  do  so  without  stopping  to  argue  the 
point,  Archie  and  Peters  presently  found  themselves  help 
ing  her.  Then  Rivers,  who  had  taken  a  fourth  and  a  fifth 
glass  while  'Melia  was  putting  up  the  shutters,  became  much 
concerned  for  her  safety,  and  declared  that  he  must  see  his 
only  child  safe  home.  ]t  was  of  no  use  for  'Melia  to  point 
out  that  she  was  accustomed  to  go  alone.  He  declared  it 
his  duty  to  go  with  her,  and  Peters,  in  response  to  an  appeal 
ing  glance  from  'Melia,  suggested  that  he  might  as  well 
come  too. 

This  enraged  Archie,  who  straightway  declared  his  inten 
tion  of  joining  the  party,  and  'Melia,  provided  they  cleared 
out  quietly,  was  ready  to  agree  to  anything. 

So  she  had  such  an  escort  as  she  had  never  been  honored 
with  before  in  her  life,  and  the  adieux  at  the  foot  of  the 
stair,  in  Comely  Bank,  savored  of  a  much  earlier  and  more 
ceremonious  period  in  the  evolution  of  manners. 

Then  Rivers,  who  by  this  time  was  calling  Archie  his 
dear  boy,  must  needs  see  him  home,  and  Peters,  whom 
Archie  had  quite  forgiven,  went  that  way  also.  They  parted 
on  the  best  possible  terms  at  Lord  Inch's  door,  and  Archie 
would  certainly  have  made  them  come  in,  but  for  an  indis 
tinct  idea  that,  for  some  particular  reason  which  he  couldn't 


CONCERNING  VARIOUS  TOASTS  205 

quite  remember,  he  mustn't  disturb  his  father.  So  he  re 
gretfully  watched  them  go  down  the  street  under  a  cold 
moonlit  sky. 

Almost  before  Archie  had  lost  sight  of  them,  Eivers, 
hanging  heavily  on  to  the  arm  of  his  dear  friend  Captain 
Peters,  was  darkly  hinting  to  that  attentive  gentleman  that 
if  he,  Rivers,  told  all  he  knew,  there  would  be  very  consider 
able  discomfort  in  No.  45.  After  this,  assisted  by  the  very 
little  whiskey  left  in  the  bottle  which  he  had  brought  away 
in  his  pocket,  and  by  part  of  another,  opened  when  he 
reached  his  room,  he  became  very  melancholy,  and  went  to 
bed  weeping  for  his  dead  wife. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

PIPES    AND     PATIENCE 

WHEN  day  dawned,  after  the  symposium  already  spoken 
of,  Peters  was  sitting  in  his  room  alone.  He  had  pulled  one 
of  the  two  easy-chairs  round  to  the  front  of  the  fire,  and  was 
stretched  out  with  his  slippered  feet  on  the  fender,  his  hands 
in  his  trousers  pockets,  and  a  long  pipe  in  his  mouth,  a  pipe 
so  long  that  the  little  bowl  rested  on  the  floor. 

The  position  was  comfortable,  suitable  for  meditation  or 
for  dreams.  The  scent  of  the  burning  tobacco  was  peculiar, 
and  had  a  peculiar  effect  upon  Peters,  whose  eyes  were  half 
closed,  while  his  lips,  instead  of  being  kept,  as  usual,  fairly 
well  together,  opened  often  in  a  lazy,  contented  smile. 

Anyone  passing  from  this  room  to  the  next,  would  have 
seen  that  the  bed  there  had  not  been  disturbed,  and  the 
room  was  quite  tidy,  which  was  more  than  could  be  said  of 
his  sitting-room.  Peters  had  come  in  so  wakeful  that  he 
had  walked  up  and  down  for  the  greater  part  of  the  night, 
and  had  only  taken  to  this  tiny-bowled,  long-stemmed  pipe 
when  the  gray  morning  was  showing  over  the  house-tops. 
This  business  of  his  was  dragging  desperately,  and  the  man 
was  not  so  uniformly  indifferent  to  it  as  he  seemed.  Some 
times  there  came  to  him,  without  warning,  a  sudden  temp 
tation  to  settle  it  in  another  way  than  that  which  he  had 
planned,  and  to  have  done  with  it  all.  Then,  as  quickly 
as  possible,  Peters  betook  himself  to  his  room  and  to  the 
small-bowled  pipe,  and  brought  himself  down  firmly 
(though  this  seems  a  ridiculous  contradiction  of  terms)  to  a 
state  of  mind  in  which  he  wandered  through  strange  lands 
where  he  ruled  alone,  and  where  nothing  mattered  much  ex 
cept  the  thousand  indescribable  delights  of  the  moment. 


PIPES  AND  PATIENCE  207 

There  were  two  very  great  dangers  in  this  last  resource 
of  Mr.  Peters'.  One  was  that,  by  repeated  use  of  this  key 
to  the  gates  of  strange  countries,  he  might  be  led  to  prefer 
them  above  this  comparatively  joyless  existence — and  to 
dwell  in  them  continually.  The  other  was,  that  his  most 
impatient  moments  came  while  he  fitted  the  key  to  the  lock, 
and  he  was  more  ready  than  ever,  just  then,  to  settle  any 
thing  and  everything  in  the  quickest  possible  way.  He  knew 
of  these  two  dangers  better  than  anyone  else.  He  did  his 
best  to  prevent  the  first,  by  only  using  this  key  when  every 
thing  else  seemed  useless.  He  usually  avoided  the  second, 
b}'  the  very  simple  expedient  of  locking  his  more  material 
door  with  a  more  material  key,  so  that  no  one  could  come 
in  unexpectedly,  and  further,  by  putting  away  that  key  in 
his  bedroom,  so  that  a  distinct  effort  was  necessary  before 
he  could  go  out.  This  morning,  however,  he  had  forgotten 
his  usual  precaution,  and  the  result  was  that  Rivers  came  in, 
after  an  unnoticed  single  knock,  and  stood  surveying  the 
scene  from  the  doorway. 

"  I  couldn't  take  any  breakfast,"  he  explained  to  the 
motionless  figure  in  the  easy-chair,  "  and  our  friend  Mrs. 
Jimps  told  me  that  you  had  not  been  down,  so  I  just 
looked  in  to  see  how  things  were.  We  were  a  bit.  gay 
last  night,  weren't  we  ?  Some  special  occasion,  I  believe. 
I  thought  I'd  take  '  a  hair  of  the  dog,'  and  I  find  I've  none 
left." 

He  got  no  answer,  for  Peters,  though  he  heard,  had  too 
little  interest  in  sublunary  matters  to  reply.  Rivers  crossed 
the  room,  and  took  the  other  easy-chair  with  the  familiarity 
of  one  who  had  occupied  it  pretty  often  lately.  As  he  did  so 
he  sniffed  suspiciously,  and  his  eye  fell  upon  the  pipe,  the 
peculiar  shape  of  which  was  not  unfamiliar  to  the  Bun 
combe  of  other  days. 

"  Hullo  !  "  he  observed,  "  what's  your  little  game  ?  " 

The  big  head  rolled  a  little  towards  him,  the  eyes  bright- 


208  MR.   PETERS 

ened  under  the  half-closed  lids,  and  Peters  smiled  in  sleepy 
benevolence. 

"  Patience,"  was  all  he  answered,  and  it  amused  his 
visitor. 

"  Patience  again  !  You  play  with  that  pipe,  I  suppose  ? 
Come  now,  that  won't  do,  Captain  Peters,''  he  went  on  in 
a  jocular  way,  "  where  are  your  cards  ?  " 

The  man  lying  before  him,  with  the  mouth-piece  of  the 
long  pipe  dropping  away  from  his  lips,  gave  a  cunning, 
sleepy  smile,  and  seemed  to  enter  into  the  joke.  "  Up  my 
sleeve  !  "  he  muttered,  and  Rivers  applauded  noisily. 

"  Excellent,  excellent  !  "  he  told  him.  "  I  hope  you've 
a  good  hand,  I'm  sure.  May  I  help  myself  to  whiskey  ?  " 

But  the  drowsy  eyes  were  beginning  to  brighten  in  an  odd 
fashion.  If  Rivers  had  been  watching  more  carefully  he 
might  have  noticed  this,  and  also  that  they  fastened  upon 
his  face  with  a  peculiar  intentness.  Rivers,  however,  was 
looking  across  at  the  sideboard  for  something  drinkable,  and 
pursued  his  small  joke  with  the  dull  pertinacity  of  the  man 
who  does  not  make  one  often. 

"  Show  me  your  hand  !  "  he  persisted. 

"Soon!    Go  away!" 

The  man,  if  he  had  known  how  close  he  sat  under  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  would  have  shown  fear,  and,  doing  so, 
would  have  roused  the  hunting  instinct  in  the  other,  and 
would  have  died  where  he  sat.  But  he  had  caught  sight  of  a 
spirit  decanter  on  the  sideboard,  and  that  settled  the  matter. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said,  seeing  an  opportunity,  "  I'll  take 
the  pool  this  time,  and  let  you  have  your  revenge  later  "  ; 
and  crossing  the  room,  he  took  the  decanter,  and,  laughing 
over  his  shoulder,  went  off. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  him,  the  great  body  in  the 
easy-chair  was  tense  and  ready  for  a  spring,  and  Peters 
scowled  when  he  realized  that  his  visitor  had  gone.  lie  half 
turned  in  his  chair,  intending  to  lock  the  door  now  against 


PIPES  AND  PATIENCE  209 

all  comers,  but  his  hand  fell  upon  the  pipe,  and,  raising  it 
to  his  lips,  he  allowed  a  vacant  smile  gradually  to  relax  his 
face. 

A  little  later  the  pipe  slid  from  his  open  mouth  again, 
but  this  time  Peters  did  not  notice  it.  He  had  passed  the 
gates. 

14 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THIEF  ! 

AFTER  Rivers  had  fortified  himself  from  the  spirit  de 
canter,  he  sat  and  meditated  over  the  doings  of  the  last  night, 
and  the  more  he  thought  things  out,  the  more  pleased  he 
was  with  his  prospects.  Archie  had  done  very  little  to  hide 
his  admiration  for  'Melia,  and  Rivers,  sitting  quietly  in  his 
own  room  and  gradually  finding  all  things  take  a  rosy  hue, 
saw  great  possibilities,  and  decided  that  he  must  at  once 
turn  them  into  certainties.  As  a  first  step  he  twisted  the 
blue-black  mustache  carefully,  and  went  down  to  the  door 
with  his  very  glossy  hat  tipped  a  little  to  one  side.  It  was 
characteristic  of  Rivers  to  put  on  his  hat  the  moment  that 
he  decided  to  go  out,  not  waiting  until  he  reached  the  door  ; 
and  it  was  always  his  fascinating  habit  to  wear  it  considerably 
out  of  the  perpendicular  when  he  was  in  good  spirits. 
When,  in  his  opinion,  a  hard  world  treated  him  harshly  and 
fortune  frowned,  he  wore  the  hat  pulled  forward — a  trick 
which  he  had  copied  from  the  stage — and  his  mustache 
drooped  despondently,  and  showed  ragged  bitten  ends. 

He  met  Mrs.  Jimps  upon  the  stair,  and,  his  hat  being  on, 
he  had  the  opportunity  of  taking  it  off  with  a  fine  semicircu 
lar  sweep,  as  she  stopped  him  to  ask  whether  he  had  seen 
Peters — Captain  Peters,  as  Rivers  had  set  the  fashion  of 
calling  him,  following  the  example  of  'Melia. 

"  Oh  yes,  I've  seen  him,"  Rivers  told  her.  "  He  does  not 
intend  to  have  any  breakfast,  Mrs.  Jimps." 

"Dear  me  !  "  said  Mrs.  Jimps,  much  concerned,  "I've 
kept  a  haddock  hot  for  him,  and  Captain  Peters  is  so  fond  of 
a  good  haddock.  Shall  I  take  it  up  for  him,  Mr.  Rivers  ?  " 


THIEF!  211 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  said  Rivers,  chuckling  unpleasantly  as 
he  thought  of  Peters'  occupation.  "  Captain  Peters  has  had 
all  the  breakfast  he  wants,  Mrs.  Jimps,  and  I  think  he  has 
gone  to  sleep  again  "  ;  and  with  that  he  went  jauntily  on  his 
way,  before  Mrs.  Jimps  could  formulate  inquiries  concern 
ing  Captain  Peters'  loss  of  appetite.  She  thought  thereon, 
however,  and  decided  that  he  should  have  lunch  in  his  own 
room.  By  that  arrangement  she  could  insure  his  having 
something  extra,  without  causing  discontent  among  the 
less-favored  Paying  Guests,  which  shows  that  Mrs.  Jimps 
had  a  kind  heart  that  did  not  allow  her  to  regard  her  visitors 
from  a  strictly  business  point  of  view,  but  that  she  also  regu 
lated  its  promptings  by  a  certain  amount  of  the  prudence 
born  of  experience.  Can  we  blame  her,  if  her  thoughts, 
during  that  day,  dwelt  a  great  deal  upon  the  possible  and 
probable  causes  of  Mr.  Peters'  loss  of  appetite,  and  if  she 
considered  love  among  the  rest  ?  Love,  she  knew  from  ex 
perience,  could  make  a  difference.  For  the  most  profitable 
visitors  she  had  ever  welcomed,  were  two  young  people  who 
had  become  engaged  under  her  roof.  But  then  they  didn't 
make  it  up  in  sleep,  as  Mr.  Peters  seemed  to  be  doing.  On 
the  contrary,  they  were  always  the  first  to  meet  at  the  break 
fast-table,  and  the  last  to  leave  the  drawing-room  at  night. 
If  Mrs.  Jimps  could  have  seen  the  way  in  which  Peters  had 
paced  his  room  until  morning,  love  would  have  seemed  to 
her  the  certain  cause.  But  she  knew  nothing  of  that,  and 
could  only  relieve  her  mind  by  poetically  expressing  her 
sentiments  in  a  nicely  cooked  sweet-bread,  sent  up  in  a  most 
tempting  manner  when  Peters  rang — well  on  in  the  after 
noon — for  hot  water. 

That  morning  'Melia,  too,  thought  over  the  last  night's 
proceedings,  after  she  had  opened  the  shop  and  made  every 
thing  tidy.  Rivers  was  a  seasoned  toper,  and  though  the 
one  to  blame,  he  had  shown  very  little  sign  of  excess  while 
with  'Melia.  He  had  merely  been  a  little  more  garrulous 


212  MR.    PETERS 

and  demonstrative.  Peters  had  not  taken  so  much  as  either 
of  the  other  two,  and  could  have  taken  more  than  either 
without  being  affected  by  it.  But  Archie  had  been  de 
cidedly  excited,  and  'Melia  was  very  vexed  when  she  thought 
of  him.  It  was  she  who  had  asked  him  to  stay,  and  she  know- 
that  he  would  not  have  done  so  without  her  invitation.  It 
was  her  father  who  had  brought  in  the  spirits  and  set  the  ex 
ample,  and  'Melia  flushed  as  she  told  herself  that  he  and  she 
were  responsible  for  Archie's  condition.  The  result  was, 
that  when  that  rather  puzzled  and  very  penitent  youth,  in 
stead  of  going  to  his  Humanity  Class,  dropped  in  at  the  shop 
to  find  out  if  he  had  made  a  fool  of  himself,  ready,  if  need 
were,  to  apologize  most  humbly,  he  found  'Melia  almost  in 
tears,  and  could  not  understand  what  on  earth  was  the  mat 
ter,  until  she  tried  to  explain — and  scarcely  even  then. 

"  It  was  me,  Mr.  Inch,  it  was  all  me,"  she  persisted. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  told  her.  "  You 
never  asked  me  to  drink.  I  hope  I  didn't  behave  like  a  cad. 
I  can't  say  that  I  remember  anything  more  than  that  I  was 
a  talkative  ass,  but  I  want  to  know  if  there's  anything  more 
I've  got  to  be  sorry  for." 

"  No,"  said  'Melia,  and,  to  her  own  intense  disgust,  went 
off  into  an  hysterical  giggle,  as  she  thought  of  his  solemn 
figure  bending  over  her  hand  in  the  lamplight,  at  the  door 
of  her  lodgings. 

"  Well,  I  mustn't  mind  your  laughing  at  me,"  said  Archie 
humbly.  "  I  know  it  serves  me  right,  and  I'm  awfully 
ashamed  of  myself.  All  I  can  say  is  that  I  was  never  like 
that  before." 

This  was  quite  true,  Archie's  weakness  not  being  in  that 
direction,  and  'Melia  ought  to  have  been  pleased  to  hear  it  ; 
but,  to  his  astonishment,  she  took  the  information  in  a  dif 
ferent  spirit,  and,  putting  her  head  down  upon  the  counter, 
wept  openly. 

"  What  on  earth  have  I  said  now  ?  "   he  asked,  "  'Melia 


THIEF !  213 

dear,  for  goodness  sake,  stop  crying,  and  tell  me  what's  the 
matter." 

But  'Melia's  feelings  had  got  the  better  of  her  for  the 
moment,  and  she  could  only  cry  on.  Archie  tried  to  pull 
away  her  fingers  and  make  her  lift  up  her  face,  but  he  was 
clumsy,  and  only  succeeded  in  disarranging  her  hair,  which 
uncoiled  across  the  counter  like  a  great  snake  of  red  gold. 
That,  and  her  hands,  hid  'Melia's  face  altogether,  but  they 
left  bare  the  back  of  her  neck,  creamy  and  tempting.  He 
looked  down  at  that,  fascinated,  and  silently  tried  once  more 
to  make  her  lift  her  head  and  deliver  him  from  temptation. 
Then,  failing  in  this,  he  stooped  over  the  counter  and  kissed 
that  creamy  spot  once,  twice,  and  raised  his  head,  proud 
and  ashamed — to  find  his  idol's  father  watching  in  the  door 
way. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  that  irate  parent,  who,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  could  have  interfered  before  the  climax,  had  he 
thought  well  to  do  so,  "  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  " 

'Melia  had  already  straightened  herself  up  at  this  reckless 
attack,  pale  and  panting,  and  was  on  the  point  of  flaring  out 
in  sincere  and  righteous  indignation  against  the  reckless 
youth,  but,  at  the  sound  of  Elvers'  voice,  her  face  crimsoned, 
and  she  would  have  given  worlds  for  the  shop  floor  to  gape 
and  swallow  her.  Almost  immediately,  however,  she  real 
ized  that  she  didn't  want  that  to  happen  unless  Archie  was 
saved  in  the  same  way,  so,  at  the  mercy  of  very  mixed  feel 
ings,  she  neither  spoke  nor  moved,  except,  with  trembling 
hands,  to  attempt  the  capture  and  restraint  of  that  snaky 
red  coil,  and  the  two  young  people  stood  looking  very  fool 
ish  and  ashamed  before  the  virtuous  Rivers,  who  made  an 
admirable  picture  of  dignified  astonishment. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ? "  repeated  Rivers. 
"  Em'ly,  is  it  possible  ?  " 

"  It's  no  fault  of  Miss  Rivers',"  Archie  stammerefl,  find 
ing  his  tongue  when  he  saw  his  beloved  questioned.  "  I'm 


214  MR.  PETERS 

sure  she  never  knew  what  I  was  going  to  do.  You'd  have 
seen  that  for  yourself  if  you'd  been  a  moment  earlier.  I— 
I  didn't  know  myself,"  he  added  haltingly,  with  a  look  of 
entreaty  at  the  still  agitated  'Melia. 

"  Didn't  know,  sir  ! "  repeated  Rivers,  with  splendid 
scorn.  "  Didn't  know  !  You  needn't  tell  me  that  you  took 
my  daughter  by  surprise.  You  needn't  tell  me  that  my 
daughter  was  not  a  willing  party  to  this — this  infamous  at 
tack.  But  to  say  that  you  '  didn't  know.'  Have  you  no  self- 
respect,  no  self-control  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  not,"  muttered  the  abashed  Archie,  with 
another  penitent  glance  at  'Melia.  "  I'm  more  sorry  than  I 
can  say." 

"  Then,  am  I  to  understand,"  asked  Eivers,  with  a  gallant 
effort  at  icy  politeness,  "  am  I  to  understand  that  you  regret 
the  er — embrace  that  I  witnessed,  and  wish  to  back  out  of 
this  affair  ?  " 

"  I  regret  it  only  so  far  as  it  has  hurt  Miss  Rivers,"  Archie 
told  him,  never  taking  his  eyes  from  'Melia's  face,  "  I — I— 
otherwise  I  mean,  I  should  be  only  glad  to — to — do  it  over 
again,"  and  at  this  shameless  avowal  'Melia  was  over 
whelmed  with  crimson  confusion,  and  fled  past  the  curtain 
to  hide  herself.  There  she  listened,  without  in  the  least 
meaning  to  do  so,  telling  herself  all  the  while  that  she  was  a 
shameless  hussy,  and  could,  nevertheless,  never  bear  to  see 
Hi  in  any  more. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

SEEING  PAPA  ! 

IT  was  very  little  more  that  'Melia  heard  that  morning, 
for,  after  another  word  or  two,  Eivers  suggested  an  adjourn 
ment,  and  he  and  Archie  left  the  shop  together. 

It  was  characteristic  of  'Melia's  father,  that  he  should 
choose  a  private  bar  as  the  spot  for  a  quiet  talk,  and  also 
that,  having  suggested  the  unfortunate  necessity  for  some 
thing  in  the  way  of  refreshment,  for  the  good  of  the  place, 
he  should  leave  Archie  to  pay  for  it. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Inch,"  said  Eivers  solemnly,  after  having 
tasted  and  approved,  "  as  this  young  lady's  father,  I  must 
ask  you,  speaking  as  one  gentleman  and  man  of  the  world 
tc  another,  what  do  you  mean  to  do  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  poor  Archie  dolefully,  for 
the  excitement  of  the  moment  had  gone.  "  I'm  ready  to  go 
back  and  apologize  again  at  once,  if  you  like,  and  if  Miss 
Eivers  will  listen  to  me." 

"  Apologize  sir  !  "  said  Eivers  indignantly,  twisting  his 
mustache  with  the  most  truculent  air  he  could  muster. 
"  Apologize  !  What  on  earth  are  you  dreaming  of  ?  Do 
you  think  yourself  free  to  kiss  my  daughter  at  the  price  of 
an  apology  ?  Good  heavens  !  Why,  if  it  were  once  known 
that  a  handsome  girl  like  that  could  be  kissed  for  a  mere 
apology,  Gad  !  sir,  there'd  be  young  men  dropping  in  at 
that  place  all  day  and  all  night,  with  apologies  ready  printed 
and  bound  in  sets." 

"  What  on  earth  am  I  to  do  then  ?  "  asked  the  unfortu 
nate  Archie,  shuddering  at  the  brutal  way  in  which  the  mat 
ter  was  being  stated. 


216  MR.  PETERS 

"  Do  !  "  repeated  Rivers,  with  a  fine  air  of  contempt. 
"  Ton  my  soul,  I  thought  I  was  talking  to  a  man  !  Did  you 
never  think  of  marrying  her  ?  "  and  Archie  gasped,  partly 
at  the  terribly  matter-of-fact  manner  in  which  Rivers  sug 
gested  marriage,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  sell  Paradise  by  auc 
tion  and  had  accused  Archie  of  a  bid,  and  partly  because, 
after  all,  to  hear  Paradise  spoken  of  so  plainly,  seemed  to 
make  it  less  impossible. 

"  She  wouldn't  have  me  !  "  he  answered.  "  Sometimes 
she  won't  even  shake  hands." 

"  Quite  right  too,  one  begins  to  think,"  said  Rivers,  work 
ing  himself  up  into  an  excited  state,  in  which  his  voice  grew 
louder,  and  threatened  to  be  heard  beyond  the  little  private 
box  in  which  they  sat.  "  You  acknowledge,  then,  that  my 
daughter  cannot  be  accused  of  encouraging  you  ?  " 

"  She's  not  a  bit  like  that,"  Archie  told  him  eagerly. 
"  She  always  made  fun  of  me  if  I  tried  to  be  serious." 

"  Then  what  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  these — these  endear 
ments  of  to-day  ?  Were  you  serious,  or  were  you  merely  try 
ing  how  far  a  poor  unprotected  girl  would  let  you  go,  with 
out  being  serious  ?  " 

It  says  a  great  deal  for  Archie's  high  opinion  of,  and  re 
spect  for  'Melia,  that  he  was  able  to  stand  this  catechism 
without  rebelling,  in  disgust,  at  the  idea  of  such  an  impos 
sible  father-in-law  ;  but,  whatever  his  opinion  of  Rivers 
might  be,  he  was  quite  clear  about  'Melia. 

"  Of  course  I  was  serious,"  he  insisted.  "  I've  learned  to 
respect  Miss  Rivers  very  much  lately.  I'd  marry  her  to-mor 
row  if  I  could." 

"  Then,"  said  Rivers,  suddenly  becoming  affable,  and 
clutching  at  Archie's  hand  across  the  table,  "  we  understand 
one  another  perfectly,  and  you've  shown  me  that  you  are 
the  man  of  honor  I  took  you  to  be.  You  ask  me  for  my 
daughter's  hand." 

"  Yes,"  said  Archie  dubiously,  "  if  you  like  to  put  it  that 


SEEING  PAPA!  217 

way.  Of  course  I  can't  have  it  unless  she  chooses,  and,  if 
she  chose,  I  don't  know  that  I'd  ask  you  about  it,  but  I 
suppose  it's  all  right." 

"  Of  course  it  is,"  said  Eivers,  quite  unruffled.  "  I  must 
see  your  father,  and  let  him  know  the  proposal  which  you 
have  done  me  the  honor  of  laying  before  me." 

"  Oh,  but  you  can't,"  the  horror-stricken  Archie  told  him. 
"  He's  busy  at  the  Parliament  House  all  day  just  now." 

"  Then,"  said  Eivers,  "  I  must  inconvenience  myself  so 
far  as  to  give  up  an  evening  to  your  affairs." 

"  He's  in  the  doctor's  hands,"  Archie  protested.  "  I 
wouldn't  have  him  worried  just  now  for  anything.  I'd 
rather  even  leave  Miss  Rivers  quite  free,  if  it  must  be  so, 
for  the  time." 

"  Will  you  have  me  go  to  your  father,"  asked  Eivers  im 
pressively,  "  and  tell  him  of  a  proposal,  and  a  promise, 
made  and  withdrawn  ?  As  a  father  I  am  bound,  by  regard 
for  my  daughter's  honor,  to  do  one  or  the  other." 

"  Do  as  you  like  then  !  "  groaned  Archie,  rising.  "  No,  I 
don't  want  anything  to  drink.  Have  it  yourself  if  you  like, 
I  haven't  touched  it.  If  I  hadn't  been  an  ass  last  night  this 
would  never  have  happened." 

"  Am  I  to  understand,"  demanded  Eivers,  with  Archie's 
untouched  glass  half-way  to  his  lips,  "  that  you  wish  to 
blame  anyone  but  yourself — my  daughter,  for  example — for 
anything  that  happened  last  night  ?  " 

"  No,  not  at  all  !  "  said  Archie,  "  I  was  a  fool,  and  I  must 
pay  for  it." 

"  Well,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Eivers,  raising  the  glass  higher, 
until  the  now  fiercely  twisted  mustache  just  showed  over 
the  brim,  "  it's  not  my  business  to  know  what  you  mean 
by  saying  you  were  a  fool,  and  I  don't  ask  questions  about 
what  does  not  concern  me.  If,  as  you  say,  you  were  a  fool 
last  night,  you've  been  a  very  wise  and  fortunate  young 
man  to-day.  Gad  !  sir,  it  doesn't  become  her  father  to 


218  MR.   PETERS 

boast,  but  I  say  my  Em'ly's  husband  will  be  a  lucky  man. 
Be  thankful  that  poverty  prevents  me  from  looking  higher 
than  a  simple  gentleman  for  her  !  You  don't  take  the  title, 
I  think  ?  No.  Work  hard  then,  Mr.  Inch,  and  let  her 
old  father  see  his  little  Em'ly  among  the  nobility,  before 
he  dies." 

With  that  Eivers  drained  the  glass,  such  a  sentiment 
being  obviously  of  the  nature  of  a  toast,  and  then  he,  too, 
there  being  nothing  more  to  drink,  rose  from  the  table. 

"  Let  us  say  half-past  eight  this  evening,"  he  decided.  "  I 
will  do  myself  the  honor  of  calling  upon  Lord  Inch  at  that 
time,  my  dear  boy,"  and  parting  from  Archie  just  outside, 
he  went  jauntily  away. 

It  could  not  be  expected  that  Archie  would  attend  any 
lecture  that  day.  He  went  disconsolately  home,  and  shut 
himself  up  in  his  own  little  room,  which  was  supposed  to  be 
a  study,  but  which  showed  more  volumes  of  the  Badminton 
Library,  and  other  sporting  works,  than  anything  else. 
Here  he  lit  his  largest  pipe,  and  then,  curled  up  in  a  fantas 
tic  attitude  before  the  fire,  he  tried  to  think  matters  out,  and 
this  is  a  summary  of  his  meditations  and  conclusions. 

He  had  been  a  fool  last  night,  and  was  glad  to  have 
'Melia's  authority  for  believing,  since  his  recollections  were 
vague,  that  he  hadn't  been  much  worse.  He  had  apolo 
gized  this  morning,  and  straightway  committed  another 
crime,  for  which  sometimes  he  was  sorry  and  sometimes  he 
was  not,  according  as  it  happened  that  'Melia,  or  her  parent, 
her  captivating  neck,  or  his  aggressive  mustache,  rose  in 
his  mind.  From  that  point  onward,  Archie  did  not  see 
where  he  could  have  stopped.  Didn't  he  love  'Melia  ?  Of 
course  he  did.  Why  then  was  he  sitting  here,  trying  to  think 
things  straight  ?  They  were  straight  already,  if  only  'Melia 
cared  for  him — but,  nevertheless,  when  Archie  thought  of 
his  father  and  of  hers,  he  gave  another  groan,  and  set  to 
work,  trying  to  think  it  all  out  again.  Eivers  was  "a 


SEEING  PAPA!  219 

Bounder/'  he  told  himself,  as  he  had  thought  directly  he 
set  eyes  on  that  individual,  and  between  his  father  and  Riv- 
ers  there  would  at  once  be  a  row.  If  only  Lord  Inch  saw 
'Melia  and  knew  her  for  a  little  while,  he  would  see,  Archie 
fondly  protested,  that  she  was  a  good  girl,  a  clever  girl,  and 
a  pretty  girl,  who  only  needed  a  chance  to  be  fit  for  any  po 
sition,  and  who  was  already  far  too  good  for  his  good-for- 
nothing  son.  Then  Archie  thought  of  Kivers,  grasping  at 
the  second  glass  in  the  bar,  and  ready  to  bully  as  far  as  he 
dared,  and  he,  groaning  at  that  unholy  vision,  turned  to  the 
thought  of  'Melia  as  she  cried  over  the  counter,  with  her 
red  hair  about  her  face,  and  straightway  came  to  a  rash,  or 
valorous,  determination.  He  would  go  back  to  her  now,  at 
once,  and  they  two  would  decide  for  themselves  what 
should  be  done.  After  all,  who  was  her  father,  that  he 
should  leave  her  for  years  and  come  just  when  he  wasn't 
wanted — at  anyrate  by  Archie  ? 

It  was  a  relief  to  do  anything,  and  to  go  anywhere.  As 
he  went,  'Melia's  face  grew  more  and  more  distinct,  and 
Kivers'  face  faded,  until  Archie's  foremost  thought,  as  he 
went  into  the  shop,  past  the  kilted  Highlander  who  had 
stood  still  through  so  much,  was  merely  that  he  should  see 
'Melia  again. 

What  he  saw  of  her  was  not  very  encouraging. 

'Melia,  on  the  departure  of  Archie  and  Rivers,  had  in 
dulged  in  what  she  called  a  good  cry.  And  I  daresay,  after 
all,  that,  physiologically,  it  was  good.  Then,  finding  that 
she  could  not  imagine  what  was  going  to  happen  next,  and 
could  not  leave  the  shop  to  find  out,  she  tried  to  work  off  her 
excitement  by  a  general  clean-up,  moving  everything,  and 
dusting  everywhere.  The  result  was  that  Archie  found 
her  on  some  low  steps  behind  the  counter,  which  was 
covered  with  boxes  taken  down  from  a  shelf  that  she  was 
dusting. 

When  she  turned  and  saw  who  had  come  in,  she  and  the 


220  MR.  PETERS 

low  steps  nearly  toppled  over  together,  but  she  clutched  at 
the  shelf  and  began  dusting  again. 

"  Go  away,  Mr.  Inch/'  was  all  her  salutation. 

"  I've  come  to  say  how  sorry  I  am,"  pleaded  Archie. 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Inch,  1  don't  bear  malice.    Go  away  !  " 

"  But  I  want  to  talk,  'Melia." 

"  My  name's  Rivers,  Mr.  Inch — Miss  Rivers,  and  I  don't 
want  to  talk." 

"  There's  a  lot  to  talk  about,"  Archie  assured  her. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  it  then,"  'Melia  retorted  obsti 
nately,  and  still  kept  her  face  to  the  shelf,  from  which  all 
dust  had  disappeared  long  ago. 

"  I  thought,"  Archie  went  on,  "  that  you'd  like  to  hear 
what  your  father  said." 

"  He'll  tell  me,  p'r'aps." 

"  I  don't  believe  he'll  see  you  until  he  has  seen  the 
governor." 

"  Seen  who  ?  "  asked  'Melia,  now  turning  about  quickly 
enough,  and  she  almost  toppled  over  again. 

"  My  governor,  my  father,"  Archie  answered,  eying  her 
anxiously,  to  discover  what  he  could  from  a  somewhat  tear- 
disfigured  face. 

"  What's  he  going  to  see  him  for  ?  "  demanded  'Melia, 
amazed,  and  Archie  vainly  sought  for  words  to  explain  the 
situation  satisfactorily. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you  properly,  upon  my  word 
I  don't,"  he  at  last  admitted.  "  I'm  an  ass,  I  know,  and  I've 
proved  that  twice,  anyway,  in  the  last  twenty-four  hours. 
I  can't  think  while  you  look  at  me  like  that,  'Melia." 

"  You've  grown  very  shy — all  of  a  sudden,"  said  'Melia 
sarcastically,  forgetting  to  remind  him  again  that  her  name 
was  Rivers,  and  gaining  courage  as  she  discovered  her  own 
power.  "  Tell  me  as  much  as  you  can,  Mr.  Inch,  and  I'll 
excuse  mistakes.  They  won't  be  the  first  I've  had  to  excuse 
this  morning,  anyway." 


SEEING  PAPA!  221 

"  Well,"  Archie  told  her,  "  your  father,  of  course,  wanted 
to  know  what  I  meant  by  behaving  so  badly.  I  told  him 
I  was  awfully  fond  of  you,  'Melia,  and  he  asked  me  what 
that  meant.  I  said,  of  course,  that  I  wanted  to  marry  you, 
only  you  always  laughed  at  me,  and  had  never  given  me 
the  chance  of  telling  you  so." 

Archie  stopped  here,  trying  to  think  what  to  say  next, 
but  'Melia  allowed  him  no  time. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  insisted,  stamping  her  foot. 

"  Well,  your  father  said  he  must  see  my  dad  about  it." 

"  About  what  ?  "  asked  'Melia.  Her  head  was  well  up 
now,  and  she  was  facing  Archie  defiantly,  one  foot  tapping 
impatiently  on  the  floor  all  the  time. 

"  Go  on  !  "  she  insisted,  "  quicker." 

"  About  my  wanting  to  marry  you." 

"  And  where  do  I  come  in  ?  " 

"  I  said,"  Archie  assured  her,  hurriedly,  "  that  you  didn't 
care  for  me  and  never  would,  and  that  it  wasn't  a  bit  of  good 
unless  you  were  willing,  and  I  told  him,  too,  that  the  gov 
ernor's  ill,  and  that  I  didn't  feel  that  I  could  bother  him 
just  now.  But  your  father  seemed  to  think  I  was  try 
ing  to  back  out,  which  I  never  thought  of,  and  said  that 
either  way  he  meant  to  see  the  governor.  So  he's  coming 
to-night,  and  I  don't  care  much  for  myself,  for  I  think  I 
deserve  it,  but  I'm  afraid  it'll  make  father  awfully  bad.  If 
he'd  only  wait  a  little." 

"  Seems  to  me,"  said  'Melia,  keeping  her  head  very  high 
and  speaking  hurriedly,  "  there's  no  need  to  wait,  Mr.  Inch, 
and  there's  no  need  for  your  pa  to  be  bothered  just  now  or 
any  other  time.  Go  you  home  and  see  him  first.  Tell  him 
from  me  that  there  was  a  silly  bit  of  nonsense  to-day  w'ich 
meant  nothing,  and  w'ich  I  don't  mean  to  remember.  Tell 
him  I  wouldn't  have  you  at  any  price,  and  that  if  he  likes, 
he  being  a  lawyer,  I'll  put  the  same  on  paper  to-morrow  if 
he'll  tell  me  how  to  do  it — and  now  go  away." 


222  MR.   PETERS 


"  ' 


'Melia,  I  can't  go  away  without  explaining,"  pleaded 
Archie,  not  knowing  quite  what  he  meant  to  say,  but  want 
ing  to  gain  time. 

"  Will  you  go  ?  "  asked  'Melia  fiercely,  "  or  must  I  leave 
you  to  mind  the  shop  and  go  myself  ?  " 

So  Archie  went,  dumfounded,  and  'Melia  collapsed 
among  the  boxes. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

FATHER    AND    SON 

IT  is  no  doubt  an  excellent  thing  to  feel  and  acknowl 
edge  the  justice  of  retribution  following  on  wrong-doing. 
Archie  had  already  declared  that  he  had  been  a  fool  and 
must  suffer  for  it  (which  awkward  way  of  putting  things 
had  not  appeared  to  poor  'Melia  as  very  complimentary). 
But,  whatever  Archie  might  say,  he  was  not  much  consoled 
by  his  abstract  sense  of  justice  when  he  found  himself  op 
posite  his  father  at  the  dinner-table  that  evening.  Lord 
Inch,  too,  did,  if  possible,  even  less  than  usual  to  encourage 
confidences.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  already  particu 
larly  troubled,  and  sat  thinking  gloomily  over  anxieties  of 
his  own,  and  scarcely  touching  the  different  courses  of  the 
meal,  as  they  were  put  before  him.  For  the  first  time  since 
he  had  taken  his  seat  upon  the  bench  he  was  obliged  to  pre 
side  at  a  trial  for  murder,  which  had  already  lasted  through 
a  day.  The  case  had  nothing  very  peculiar  about  it.  A  man 
had,  through  jealousy,  deliberately  murdered  a  woman,  and 
with  the  details  we  have  nothing  to  do.  Lord  Inch  ex 
pected  that  next  day  would  see  the  case  ended.  On  that 
afternoon  he  would  sum  up,  and  there  was  no  room  for 
doubt,  in  his  mind,  but  that  every  word  he  said  would  help 
to  convince  fifteen  men,  if  they  were  not  convinced  already, 
that  only  one  verdict  was  possible. 

Then  would  come  the  sentence,  pronounced  by  himself, 
and  he  groaned  to  think  of  it.  There  was  no  comfort  to 
him  in  the  argument,  to  which  he  again  and  again  returned, 
that  he  was  merely  the  mouthpiece  of  the  law,  putting  into 
effect,  against  one  who  had  every  reasonable  help,  the  con- 


234  MR.   PETERS 

elusion  arrived  at  by  fifteen  reputable  citizens.  Nor  did  it 
help  him  to  think  that  his  oath  of  office  allowed  no  alter 
native.  The  grim  relentless  machinery  of  the  law  was  so 
carefully  adjusted,  the  responsibility  so  divided,  each 
function  so  legalized,  that  when  the  half-man  half-brute 
died — as  die  he  certainly  would  a  few  weeks  hence — each 
could  say,  from  the  prosecuting  counsel  through  all  the  rest, 
witnesses,  judge,  and  jury,  to  the  common  hangman,  "  It 
was  not  I  who  killed  him."  But,  to  Lord  Inch's  troubled 
mind,  it  seemed  as  though  a  special  responsibility  attached 
to  himself.  He  exaggerated  his  own  importance  in  the 
ceremonial,  his  own  part  in  the  practically  inevitable  end. 

It  was  not  for  nothing  that  the  loungers  of  the  Parlia 
ment  House  had,  as  he  knew,  called  him,  though  half-laugh- 
ingly,  the  Just  Judge.  He  felt  a  grim  satisfaction  in  decid 
ing  that  he  would  shift  no  responsibility  of  his  on  any  other 
man's  shoulders.  He  had  fought  for  position,  he  had 
worked  for  office,  and,  now  that  he  filled  it,  no  man  should 
have  just  cause  to  say  that  he  shirked  any  of  his  duties. 
If  only  he  saw  an  opportunity  of  so  guiding  justice,  he 
thought,  as  to  atone  for  his  sin  of  twenty-five  years  ago,  how 
gladly  he  would  take  it  !  Then,  at  once,  he  laughed  a  low 
harsh  laugh,  shifting  angrily  in  his  chair,  and  muttering 
to  himself,  entirely  forgetful,  for  the  moment,  of  Archie's 
presence  as  he  realized  the  absurdity  of  the  wish. 

What  mere  justice  done  to  one  man,  as  he  was  bound  to 
do  it,  could  go  one  hair's-breadth  to  atone  for  injustice  done 
to  another  ?  If  one  word  of  more  than  justice  escaped 
him,  tending  rather  to  mercy,  then  he  must  of  necessity 
be  unjust,  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  the  cry  of  innocent  blood. 
As  Archie  watched  his  father  furtively,  and  wondered 
how  to  begin  his  story  to  so  grim  a  judge,  Lord  Inch's 
thoughts  went  back  to  the  beginning  of  his  trouble.  He 
saw  it  all,  he  heard  the  tune  of  the  unknown  foreign  words 
which  had  rung  in  his  ears  so  often  since,  and  watched  a 


FATHER  AND  SON  225 

something  which,  but  for  him,  might  have  been  still  a  man, 
swinging  in  the  moonlight- 
He  had  tried,  when  success  and  money  came,  quietly  to 
trace  the  relatives  of  that  murdered  man,  but  there  was  no 
more  sign  of  them  than  of  the  leaves  beneath  which  the 
corpse  had  swung.  Still,  he  thought  now,  he  must  try 
again.  Trouble  and  expense  must  have  no  limit  in  such  a 
matter,  and,  comforted  perhaps  a  little  by  this  fresh  resolu 
tion,  he  put  these  thoughts  away  for  the  time  with  a  sigh, 
and  tried  to  eat  and  to  be  more  sociable. 

Archie  noticed  the  change,  and  noticed  also,  as  he  gave  a 
side  glance  at  the  clock,  that  in  another  hour  the  self- 
invited  visitor  would  be  with  them.  How  should  he  begin? 
He  had  considered  and  rejected  half  a  dozen  circumlocutory 
ways  of  approaching  the  matter,  and  now  there  was  no  time 
for  anything  but  plain  speaking. 

"  Can  I  have  a  talk  with  you  after  dinner,  father  ?  " 
Lord  Inch  looked  across  the  table,  and  frowned,  inquir 
ingly- 

"  Yes,  of  course,  if  you  wish,"  he  said,  "  but  almost  any 
other  time  would  be  better.  I  have  to  read  my  notes  in  the 
Lawnmarket  case,  and  I  must  work  all  the  evening." 

"  I'm  afraid  it  must  be  to-night,"  Archie  answered  in 
desperation,  "  but  I  can  tell  you  here  while  you're  having 
dessert.  Then  it  will  be  over  quicker." 

"  What's  this  ?  "  asked  his  father  stiffly.  "  You  have  not 
been  getting  into  mischief,  I  hope." 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  think  so,"  Archie  told  him,  keen  to  get 
on  now  and  have  it  over  without  any  slow  torture.  "  But," 
he  added,  "  I  know  you're  not  very  fit  just  now,  and  I've 
tried  to  keep  the  thing  quiet  until  you  were  better." 

"  Come  away,  man,  come  away  ! "  Lord  Inch  told  him 
impatiently,  "  let  me  hear  the  worst  and  have  done  with  it." 
So  Archie  floundered  on,  with  one  hand  clenched  under 
the  table  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  his  wine-glass,  and,  being 

15 


226  MR.  PETERS 

as  anxious  as  Lord  Inch  to  get  it  finished,  told  the  bare 
facts  of  the  trouble  with  no  comment  or  excuse. 

So  unadorned  was  his  story  that,  when  he  stopped,  his 
father  knew  very  little  of  Archie's  own  feeling  in  the 
matter. 

"  What  a  vulgar  intrigue  !  "  he  said  scornfully,  when 
Archie  was  silent.  "  You  fancy  a  tobacconist's  girl,  she  lets 
you  kiss  her,  the  father  is  in  readiness,  extorts  a  pretence  of 
a  proposal  out  of  you,  and  then  has  the  audacity  to  talk  of 
coming  round  here,  to  see,  of  course,  what  he  can  screw  out 
of  me.  I  shall  not  see  him  !  " 

"  No,  no,  you're  quite  wrong,  father,"  Archie  insisted,  "  I 
haven't  told  you  all.  I've  great  respect  for  Miss  Rivers, 
and  I  went  round  to  see  her  again  after  that." 

"  Go  on,  sir  !  "  Lord  Inch  said,  angrily.  "  Did  she  get 
you  to  make  her  an  offer  of  marriage  in  writing — or  did  you 
declare  yourselves  Man  and  Wife  ?  " 

"  She  told  me  to  tell  you  she  wouldn't  have  me  at  any 
price." 

Lord  Inch  sat  back  in  his  chair,  and  eyed  Archie  grimly. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  It's  quite  true,"  Archie  insisted.  "  She  doesn't  care  for 
me,  and  she  won't  have  me.  It's  no  good  trying  to  make 
you  understand,  father,  for  you've  never  seen  her,  but  she's 
too  good  for  me,  and  I  suppose  she  knows  it.  She  said  that 
if  you  would  tell  her  how  to  put  it,  she'd  sign  a  paper  saying 
there  was  nothing  between  us." 

"  That's  easily  done,"  Lord  Inch  commented,  and  then 
sat  silent,  looking  at  Archie  curiously,  and  drumming  upon 
the  table  with  his  fingers.  "Then  why  does  the  father  make 
his  appearance  ?  "  be  asked  presently,  and  added  at  once, 
"  I  will  not  see  him,  I  tell  you.  I  need  not.  You  have  got 
yourself  into  this  difficulty.  You  can  see  him  if  you  like, 
and  tell  bim  wbat  bis  daughter  says.  Stay,  though  !  Per 
haps  it  would  be  best  for  her  to  sign  that  paper  first  !  " 


FATHER  AND  SON  327 

"That/'  thought  Archie,  "can  wait,"  and  he  said  no  thing. 

Presently  Lord  Inch,  watching  him,  burst  out  into  a 
mirthless,  sardonic  laugh. 

"  You're  a  pretty  fellow  ! "  he  told  his  son  impatiently. 
"  I  think  you  must  be  right  in  saying  the  girl  is  too  good 
for  you.  Now  that  you  have  obtained  your  kiss,  you  don't 
seem  to  care  how  the  thing  goes,  so  long  as  you  get  off  scot 
free  ! " 

The  words  stung  the  young  fellow  like  a  whip,  but  he 
rose  from  the  table  and  went  across  to  the  fire,  before  he 
faced  about  and  answered. 

"  I'm  not  such  a  cur  as  you  think  me,  sir,"  he  told  Lord 
Inch  at  last.  "Although  it  doesn't  look  much  like  it,  I  sup 
pose,  I'm  trying  to  consider  you." 

Lord  Inch  made  him  a  little  bow  from  his  seat  at  the 
table.  "  You  are  quite  right  to  mention  that.  I  had  over 
looked  it.  Would  it  be  too  much  to  ask  where  this  con 
sideration  has  been  shown  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  it's  shown  at  all,"  Archie  told  him, 
"  but  it's  there." 

"Beally !"  said  Lord  Inch,  in  a  mocking  tone.  "Where  ?" 

"  I'm  very  fond  of  Miss  Eivers,"  Archie  repeated,  facing 
him  steadily,  "  and  if  you  were  all  right,  father,  I  should 
talk  differently.  As  it  is,  I  bring  you  her  message — that 
she'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  me,  and  I  bring  it  so  that 
you  mayn't  have  any  worry  when  you  meet  her  father.  It 
wasn't  all  for  my  own  sake  that  I  wanted  you  not  to  hear 
about  this." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Lord  Inch,  perhaps  a  little  softened, 
for  Archie  spoke  manfully  enough,  "in  any  case  the  thing  is 
impossible.  You  must  see  that.  But  if  the  girl  won't  have 
anything  to  do  with  you,  what  is  the  use  of  my  being  wor 
ried  with  the  father  ?  Heavens  !  man,  I  tell  you  I  have 
matters  to  think  of  to-night  to  which  this  is  the  merest 
child's  play  ! " 


228  MR.  PETERS 

"  Her  father  doesn't  know  what  she  said  to  me,"  Archie 
insisted,  "  and  he  mustn't  know.  I've  only  seen  him  twice, 
but  I  believe  he'd  be  awfully  hard  on  her  if  he  knew." 

"  That  is  pertinent  !  "  Lord  Inch  allowed.  "  He  might 
influence  her,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  prove  her  state 
ment  to  you.  I  had  better  see  the  fellow  for  a  minute." 

"  You  won't  tell  him  what  she  said  !  "  Archie  entreated. 
His  father  laughed  coldly  at  the  idea.  "  No,"  he  said,  "  the 
man  shall  hear  nothing  of  that  from  me." 

"  I  will  be  in  the  smoking-room,"  Archie  suggested. 
"  You'll  send  for  me  if  you  want  me." 

"  I  fancy  that  I  shall  not  need  your  help,"  Lord  Inch 
told  him  dryly.  "  You  will  oblige  me  by  not  seeing  this 
young  person,  or  her  father,  until  I  tell  you." 

"  I'll  be  ready  to  come  to  the  study  directly  he's  gone,  if 
you  don't  send  for  me  before." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind  !  "  retorted  Lord  Inch 
sharply,  finishing  his  wine  and  rising  from  the  table.  "  I 
can  see  you  no  more  to-night.  I  do  not  know  that  I  shall 
have  any  time  to  talk  to-morrow  morning,  or  to-morrow 
night  either.  It  seems  hard  to  you,  I  daresay,  but  one  can 
not  be  a  fool  without  suffering  for  it.  You  are  fortunate  if 
the  result  of  your  folly  lasts  only  a  few  hours." 

lie  was  thinking  of  his  own  burden  now,  but  the  effect 
was  to  make  his  voice  and  manner  more  than  ever  those  of 
a  stern  judge,  who  had  no  sympathy  with  human  frailty  or 
folly  of  any  kind,  and  Archie  felt  a  very  weak-kneed  young 
man  as  he  listened. 

"  I  know  you  can't  understand  a  fellow  making  such  a 
fool  of  himself,"  he  said  dolefully,  moving  across  the  room 
with  his  father,  and  standing  aside  at  the  door  to  let  him 
pass.  "  I  know  it's  awfully  hard  on  you  to  have  such  a  chap 
for  a  son,  but  one  doesn't  mean  to  do  mischief." 

"  Xo,  no  !  "  Lord  Inch  said,  stopping  suddenly  in  the 
doorway,  and  looking  out  into  the  hall.  "  One  docs  not 


FATHER  AND  SON  229 

mean  to  do  mischief,  my  boy;  one  does  not  mean  to  do  mis 
chief,"  and  then  went  hurriedly  away  to  his  study,  while 
Archie  betook  himself  to  the  smoking-room,  wondering 
whether  he  had  any  good  excuse  for  thinking  that  his 
father's  anger  had  lessened  a  little,  just  at  the  last. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

A   OUTRANGE 

IF  Lord  Inch  had,  for  a  moment,  been  moved  by  some 
thought  or  memory  when  parting  from  Archie,  he  showed 
no  sign  of  any  such  weakness  to  Morris,  the  footman,  who 
answered  his  study-bell  five  minutes  later,  and  received  in 
structions  to  admit  a  man  Rivers,  who  would  come  having 
business  with  his  lordship. 

That  estimable  parent,  being  shown  in  almost  immedi 
ately  after,  had  no  reason  to  be  elated  by  the  way  in  which 
he  was  received.  Lord  Inch,  scarcely  looking  up  from  his 
desk,  pointed  to  a  chair  and  told  him  to  sit  down. 

"  To  what  do  I  owe  this  pleasure  ?  "  he  asked  ceremoni 
ously,  but  "Rivers  made  no  haste  to  reply.  He  was  studying 
the  keen  face  before  him,  which  he  tried  to  recognize,  and 
for  the  life  of  him  could  not.  Twenty-five  years  of  a  legal 
atmosphere  had  made  the  judge  quite  unrecognizable. 
Rivers  could  only  find  consolation  in  tbinking  that  there 
was  still  less  chance  of  being  himself  detected. 

The  dry  inscrutable  figure  opposite  looked  so  irreproach 
able,  the  eyes  were  so  keen,  the  expression  was  so  masterful, 
that  Rivers  found  it  difficult  to  assume  an  air  of  assurance 
and  equality. 

"  My  young  friend  Mr.  Archibald  has  told  your  lordship, 
no  doubt,"  he  said  at  last,  in  answer  to  Lord  Inch's  question. 

"  My  son  has  told  me  that  he  met  you  last  night — for  the 
first  time  I  believe,"  Lord  Inch  told  him,  dryly.  "  I  must 
trouble  you  to  state  your  business  quickly,  that  I  may  re 
turn  to  mine." 

As  he  spoke  lie  took  up  tbe  pen,  as  if  his  work  had  still 
the  greater  part  of  his  attention,  and  Rivers  cursed  him 


A   OUTRANGE  231 

under  his  breath  for  a  conceited  dog  of  a  lawyer,  whom  he 
would  bring  down  on  his  knees  presently. 

"  You  can  easily  understand,"  he  told  Lord  Inch,  "  that  I 
must  certainly  know  more  of  the  young  fellow  before  I  give 
my  consent.  But  my  daughter  has  known  him  longer,  and 
1  have  great  faith  in  her  judgment." 

"  Your  business,  sir,  your  business  !  "  the  other  repeated. 

"  To  consider  your  son's  proposal  of  marriage  to  my 
daughter,"  Eivers  told  him.  "  Is  that  plain  enough  ?  " 

"  Quite  !  " 

Lord  Inch  laughed  a  little  as  he  acknowledged  this. 

"  We  need  not  talk  of  your  daughter's  position  or  pros 
pects,  Mr. er  Eivers,"  he  added,  after  a  glance  at  that 

gentleman's  card.  "  Do  you  know  the  boy's  age  ?  " 

"  When  I  was  at  Balliol,"  said  Rivers  pompously,  drag 
ging  in  Balliol  as  it  was  bound  to  be  dragged  in,  sooner  or 
later  "  (I  am  an  Oxford  man,  my  lord),  I  can  have  been  no 
older,  but  I  knew  my  mind  in  these  things." 

Balliol  !  There  was  something  dimly  familiar  about 
that  word.  Somewhere  or  other  Lord  Inch  had  met  some 
one  who  dragged  Balliol  into  every  conversation.  But  that 
was  immaterial  to  the  present  issue. 

"  My  son  is  not  yet  twenty-one,"  he  told  Rivers. 

"  Tie  very  soon  will  be,"  Rivers  said,  carelessly.  "  I  don't 
think  that  would  matter,  if  you  and  I  came  to  terms." 

The  growing  impertinence  of  his  manner  was  rousing 
Lord  Inch's  temper,' which,  however,  did  not  yet  show  itself. 
The  Parliament  House  had  been  an  admirable  school  in  the 
practice  of  an  unruffled  demeanor,  and  Lord  Inch  was  now 
showing  just  as  much,  or  as  little,  of  impatience  as  suited 
him.  After  all,  the  affair  was  very  much  child's  play.  It 
meant  a  little  expense  in  getting  Archie  out  of  such  undesir 
able  society,  and  a  little  caution  in  avoiding  chatter.  It 
would  be  easy  to  bear  with  this  fellow,  until  one  had  taken 
the  precaution  of  getting  that  absolving  note  which  the  girl 


232  MB.  PETERS 

had  volunteered  to  give.  Then  the  police  could  take  the 
man  in  hand  if  he  proved  troublesome.  These  thoughts 
went  on  behind  an  unchanging  face,  expressionless  almost, 
except  for  the  keen  eyes,  and  then  Lord  Inch  decided  that 
he  had  spent  enough  time  in  enduring  this  insolence. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  rising  from  his  desk  and  moving  across 
to  the  fireplace,  within  reach  of  the  bell,  "  in  my  opinion, 
you  have  made  a  mistake  in  coming  to  discuss  such  a 
question  as  you  suggest,  and  perhaps  you  will  think  so 
upon  further  consideration.  I  may  say  privately,  and  with 
out  prejudice,  that  if  you  choose,  here  and  now,  to  drop 
this  matter  altogether,  I  am  willing  to  make  you  a  gift  of 
fifty  pounds  to  have  done  with  it,  and  I  shall  think  the  kiss, 
which  I  understand  to  be  the  excuse  for  your  visit,  very 
handsomely  paid  for.  I  shall  not  repeat  this  offer.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  you  wish  uselessly  to  discuss  the  matter  to  a 
greater  extent,  I  must  ask  you  to  let  me  arrange  some  other 
time.  I  am  very  busy  to-night,  and  believe  that  my  clerk 
is  waiting  to  come  in.  Shall  we  say  fifty  pounds  ?  I  have 
no  intention  of  raising  my  terms." 

He  paused  with  his  hand  stretched  towards  the  bell,  and 
looked  at  Eivers  for  his  answer.  But  that  individual  did 
not  seem  tempted  by  his  offer,  and,  indeed,  was  smiling  in 
a  way  that  Lord  Inch  did  not  understand. 

"  Come  !  "  the  latter  said,  beginning  to  show  impatience. 
"  I  will  see  the  girl  myself  when  I  have  time,"  he  thought, 
watching  Eivers.  "  If  she  be  as  sensible  as  Archie  pre 
tends,  she  shall  have  the  fifty  pounds  privately,  and  this 
cur  shall  have  none.  Come  !  "  he  said  again,  a  little  more 
loudly.  "  One  way  or  the  other,  sir;  I  have  other  things 
to  do." 

"  So  have  I,"  retorted  Eivers,  not  moving  from  his  chair, 
"  and  I  mean  to  do  them." 

"  That  is  well,"  Lord  Inch  told  him,  coolly.  "  You  will 
think  over  this,  and  see  that  you  have  made  a  mistake." 


A  OUTRANGE  233 

He  turned  to  the  bell  once  more,  promising  himself  that 
he  would  not  be  troubled  with  this  scamp  again,  when  a 
word  stopped  him. 

"  What  about  Bonville  ? "  Kivers  asked,  and  saw  his 
question  answered  without  words. 

The  hand  that  almost  rested  upon  the  bell  hung  motion 
less  for  some  seconds,  and  then,  slowly,  stealthily,  was 
drawn  away.  The  face  which  had  been  turned  from  him 
came  slowly  round,  as  expressionless  as  a  strong  will  could 
make  it;  as  hard,  but  also  as  void  of  blood,  as  the  marble 
mantel-piece  behind  it.  The  lips  were  set  like  iron,  im 
movable,  unbending.  It  might  have  been  the  stiff  face  of 
a  dead  man,  but  for  the  agonized  eyes  that  glared  across  the 
room.  Then,  before  either  spoke  again,  a  sharp  spasm  shot 
over  the  Judge's  face,  making  the  set  lips  open  and  writhe 
with  pain.  Lord  Inch  drew  himself  up  breathless  against 
the  wall,  standing  as  one  might  stand  who  saw  death  go  by, 
and  who  drew  away  lest  he  should  be  touched  by  the  far- 
sweeping  scythe.  There  was  no  sound  heard  in  that  room 
except  the  striking  of  a  clock,  until,  with  a  face  which  was 
calm  again,  but  damp  with  sweat,  he  moved  slowly  away  to 
a  sofa  and  lay  there,  waving  off  Kivers,  who  moved  forward 
with  the  notion  of  doing  something,  he  did  not  know  what. 
The  blow  had  told  far  beyond  the  man's  highest  expecta 
tions.  He  seemed  to  be  holding  a  stronger  hand  than  he 
had  imagined. 

"  That  is  over,"  Lord  Inch  said  presently.  "  Of  what 
were  you  speaking  ?  " 

"  Bonville,"  Eivers  told  him  suddenly,  half-frightened  by 
the  ghastly  effect  of  the  word.  "  You  seemed  to  hear  it  all 
right."  And  Lord  Inch,  watching  from  where  he  lay,  felt 
that  denial  was  useless. 

"  What  of  it  ?  "  he  asked  curtly.     "  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  You've  had  my  name  already,"  Rivers  told  him.  "  As 
for  Bonville —  He  stopped,  staring  hard  at  the  Judge, 


234  MR.   PETERS 

who,  he  now  felt,  was  completely  in  his  power.  "  Well,  as 
for  Bonville,  you  and  I  were  there  together,  and  I  thought  I 
would  warn  you  before  I  told  my  friend  Mr.  Archie  among 
the  rest." 

However  much  this  might  hurt  Lord  Inch  to  hear,  he 
showed  nothing  of  his  pain  now. 

"  We  were  all  there,  I  suppose,"  Rivers  went  on  deliber 
ately,  "  on  a  certain  night  that  you  and  I  are  thinking  of. 
But  most  of  us  only  looked  on.  You  and  I  know  what  you 
did."  He  was  playing  his  hand  now  for  all  it  was  worth. 

Lord  Inch,  lying  back  upon  the  sofa,  said  nothing,  but, 
stretching  out  his  hand,  poured  something  from  a  bottle 
that  stood  within  reach  and  drank  it  slowly,  while  Rivers 
watched. 

"  What  then  ?  "  he  asked  quietly  at  last. 

"  What  then  !  "  his  visitor  echoed  mockingly.  "  Why, 
nothing,  I  suppose.  Nothing  that  all  Edinburgh,  all  Scot 
land,  mayn't  hear;  and,  by  God,  they  shall  hear  it  too,"  he 
went  on,  maddened  by  the  quiet  way  in  which  this  man 
faced  him.  "  All  Scotland  shall  know  that  Lord  Inch,  one 
of  Her  Majesty's  judges  at  the  Parliament  House,  the  '  Just 
Judge,'  by  the  Lord  !  murdered  a  man  twenty-five  years 
ago.  It  may  be  nothing  to  you,  but  it  will  be  news  to  a 
great  many." 

He  finished  off  with  a  string  of  blasphemies  and  abuse,  his 
voice  rising  as  he  went,  and  Lord  Inch,  still  facing  him 
with  a  firm  air,  held  up  a  warning  hand. 

"  You  will ,"  he  began  hoarsely,  and  then  stopped. 

His  throat  and  lips  were  dry,  he  feared  that  his  voice  trem 
bled,  and  he  made  another  strong  effort  to  pull  himself  to 
gether  before  he  continued. 

"  You  will  rouse  the  house,"  he  said  presently,  "  and 
everyone  will  hear  you.  That,  from  your  point  of  view, 
would  be  disadvantageous  at  the  present  stage.  What  do 
you  want  ?  " 


A   OUTRANGE  235 

"  I'll  think  about  it,"  Kivers  told  him.  "  I  might  have 
let  you  off  easy  before,  but  I  won't  now.  You're  too  pig 
headed,  too  high  and  mighty  altogether.  I'll  take  that 
fifty  pounds  in  the  meanwhile.  It  will  help  to  make  my 
Em'ly  a  little  better  prepared  to  sit  at  your  lordship's  table." 

"  Be  careful,"  Lord  Inch  told  him,  warningly. 

"  Give  me  that  fifty,"  Kivers  repeated.  "  I've  only  to  get 
hold  of  the  nearest  reporter,  and  tell  him  what  I  know,  and 
it  would  ruin  you.  You  could  have  me  up  for  it  if  you 
chose,  and  you  know  you  wouldn't.  Give  me  that  fifty  I 
say,  and  I'll  think  it  over  before  I  come  round  again." 

But  whatever  Lord  Inch's  faults  might  be,  want  of  cour 
age  was  certainly  not  one  of  them,  and  the  same  pride  that 
revolted  against  the  proclamation  of  a  fault  a  quarter  of  a 
century  old,  rebelled  still  more  against  bending  to  a  vulgar 
bully  like  the  one  who  stood  before  him. 

"  Understand  me,"  he  told  Rivers.  "  Fifty  pounds  you 
shall  not  have  to-night,  for  any  threat  that  you  can  think  of, 
or  utter,  or  carry  out.  You  fool  !  what  do  you  think  life  or 
anything  else  would  be  worth  to  me,  if  I  held  them  at  the 
mercy  of  such  scum  as  you  ?  Do  you  think  I  have  never 
had  such  cases  to  deal  with  elsewhere  ?  Do  you  think  I 
do  not  know  the  tricks  of  your  crew,  your  constant  threats 
and  your  constant  extortions,  until  the  man  you  haunt  is 
poorer  in  pocket  and  in  reputation  than  the  most  naked 
truth  could  have  made  him  ?  Here  is  a  sovereign  to  keep 
you  from  stealing  for  a  week.  Then  come  back,  and  you 
shall  know  what  I  will  and  what  I  will  not  do — and  you 
can  then  act  as  you  choose  !  " 

He  tossed  a  sovereign  on  to  the  table,  whence  it  fell  to 
the  floor,  and  Rivers  groped  for  it  upon  his  hands  and  knees, 
cursing  as  he  crawled. 

"  It  shall  cost  you  thousands,"  he  swore,  as  he  got  up 
from  the  floor  with  the  coin,  and  cursed  again  when  Lord 
Inch  turned  from  him  contemptuously. 


236  MB.  PETERS 

"  You  have  gone  too  far,"  the  Judge  told  him  as  he  re 
sumed  his  seat  at  the  desk.  "  Of  two  evils  I  am  likely  to 
choose  the  lesser.  Oblige  me  by  touching  the  bell,  and  re 
member  that  one  word  too  much  from  you  will  at  once  end 
all  negotiations  between  us." 

Kivers  might  have  power  over  this  man,  but  he  had  nei 
ther  the  brain  nor  the  nerve  to  use  it  profitably  just  then. 
He  was  prepared  for  nothing  except  equivocation  and  de 
nial.  To  be  defied  in  that  contemptuous  and  desperate 
way  confounded  him  utterly.  He  rang  the  bell  as  obediently 
as  any  lackey,  pouring  out  threats  to  which  Lord  Inch  lis 
tened  outwardly  unmoved,  and  which  grew  lower  and  lower, 
as  he  realized  the  danger  of  their  being  heard  by  anyone  re 
plying  to  the  signal  he  had  been  ordered  to  make. 

When  Morris  came,  as  he  did  presently,  the  visitor  stood 
like  a  thunder-cloud  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind — undecided 
whether  to  break  or  be  driven  farther,  while  Lord  Inch,  at 
his  desk,  was  deep  in  his  papers. 

"  Ask  Mr.  Mclntosh  to  be  kind  enough  to  come  up  now," 
Lord  Inch  told  him.  And,  turning  to  Kivers,  "  I  will  see 
you  next  week  at  the  same  time  if  you  wish." 

There  was  no  more  said.  Rivers  followed  the  wondering 
Morris  down  the  stair,  feeling  very  much  as  if  he  had  been 
somehow  mastered  by  a  weaker  man,  and  went  back  to  his 
room  cursing  all  concerned,  individually  and  collectively, 
'Melia  not  excepted,  and  swearing  that  next  week's  meeting 
should  be  very  much  more  profitable. 

Lord  Inch  laid  himself  upon  the  sofa,  and  spent  a  few 
minutes  in  fighting  down  his  own  wild  fears  of  he  knew  not 
what;  then  turning  resolutely  to  the  business  in  hand,  he 
worked  his  best  and  his  hardest  until  he  could  work  no 
more. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
'MELIA  HAS  A  NEW  CUSTOMER 

WHEN  Lord  Inch  came  down  to  breakfast  the  next  morn 
ing,  he  found  Archie  already  in  the  room,  and  spoke  at  once. 

"  I  had  a  little  talk  with  the  gentleman  who  is  anxious  to 
be  your  father-in-law,"  he  told  him,  "  but  you  must  wait 
until  I  have  more  time  to  spare  before  I  can  talk  to  you. 
Meanwhile  I  rely  upon  your  honor  not  to  hold  any  com 
munication  with  these  people.  That  is  all,"  and  he  said 
nothing  more  upon  that  or  any  other  subject. 

Archie  having,  as  he  put  it  dismally  to  himself,  nothing 
better  to  do,  went  off  presently  to  attend  lectures,  and  at  ten 
o'clock  Lord  Inch  was  in  his  place  in  the  Justiciary  Court. 
There,  however,  things  went  differently  from  what  he  had 
expected.  Not  that  the  case  for  the  accused  showed  any 
improvement.  Far  from  it.  But  his  counsel,  feeling  that 
no  common  defence  was  possible,  searched  heaven  and  earth 
and  all  time  for  theories,  arguments,  and  appeals.  It  was  all 
to  no  purpose,  as  Lord  Inch  knew  perfectly  well.  He  would 
have  to  clear  away  every  wild  proposition  a  few  hours  hence, 
and  meant  to  do  so  without  mercy,  but  in  the  meanwhile  he 
told  himself  that  it  was  a  man's  life  at  stake,  and  sat  far  on 
into  the  evening,  allowing  the  prisoner's  counsel  great  lati 
tude  in  his  evidence,  and  listening  patiently  with  a  faint, 
almost  unrecognized  hope,  that  in  the  course  of  his  wander 
ings  the  advocate  might  chance  upon  some  point  really 
worth  considering.  Then,  at  last,  he  rose  and  adjourned  the 
Court.  So  the  prisoner  had  a  night  more  to  hope  and  to  fear 
in.  but,  being  unimaginative,  slept  instead,  which  was  quite 
as  good.  The  jurymen  were  convoyed  away,  counsel  went 


238  MR.    PETERS 

home,  and  Lord  Inch,  finding  that  it  was  a  fine  evening, 
sent  on  his  brougham  and  walked  down  the  Mound  alone. 

The  day's  proceedings  had  added  very  little  to  what  he 
had  considered  fully  the  night  before.  There  were  one  or 
two  wild  theories,  which  would  collapse  at  a  word.  Mean 
while  he  would  be  glad  if,  for  a  time,  he  could  put  the  matter 
entirely  out  of  his  mind,  and  an  occupation  at  once  occurred 
to  him.  Archie  had  told  him  where  'Melia  was  to  be  found, 
and  that  way  he  went. 

He  ran  the  risk  of  meeting  Rivers,  but  Rivers,  although 
Lord  Inch  did  not  know  it,  was  quite  safe  for  that  evening, 
and  indeed  had  not  been  near  'Melia  for  the  day.  Drink 
was  the  only  consolation  for  him  after  the  humiliation  he 
had  undergone  the  night  before,  and  in  the  privacy  of  his 
own  room  he  drank  and  schemed,  and  schemed  and  drank, 
until  he  could  do  neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 

He  owed  to  his  dear  friend  Peters  a  great  part  of  what  he 
drank,  and  it  was  Peters,  too,  who  listened  to  his  muttering, 
his  vague  threats,  his  half-confidences  about  someone  whose 
name  he  always  held  back,  but  whom  he  would  have  down  in 
the  mud,  or  his  name  was  not  Rivers.  This  had  lasted  far 
on  into  the  previous  night,  after  his  retreat  from  Drums- 
heugh  Gardens.  It  began  again  with  little  variation  the 
next  morning,  only  he  got  confused  in  his  maundering 
before  he  collapsed,  and  substituted  "  Buncombe "  for 
"  Rivers,"  at  which  the  attentive  Peters  laughed  amusedly, 
but  said  nothing.  Then  that  morning  he  had  fallen  asleep 
in  a  drunken  stupor,  and  Peters,  after  thinking  awhile  as  if 
not  knowing  quite  what  to  do,  had  kicked  him  very  badly, 
and  left  him  lying  where  he  had  rolled.  Peters  locked  the 
door  on  the  outside,  and  told  Mrs.  Jimps,  as  he  went  out, 
that  Mr.  Rivers  wished  on  no  account  to  be  disturbed. 

Rivers  therefore  had  not  been  outside  his  room  ;  for,  on 
waking,  he  had  only  risen,  aching,  from  the  floor,  to  reach 
his  bed  and  fall  into  a  less  unnatural  slumber  ;  but  Peters 


'MELIA   HAS  A  NEW  CUSTOMER  239 

on  leaving  him  went  up  to  the  Parliament  House,  which  of 
late  he  had  visited  often,  and  sat,  attentive,  until  Lord  Inch 
came  away.  Then  he  came  too,  and  followed  him  closely, 
though  with  no  particular  end  in  view  just  then.  It  pleased 
him,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  to  watch  this  man's  comings 
and  goings,  unnoticed  and  unsuspected.  If  Lord  Inch  had 
turned  and  looked,  he  would  have  seen  nothing  more  than 
the  rather  bulky  figure  of  a  neatly  dressed  foreign-looking 
gentleman,  who  would  have  passed  him,  had  he  stopped, 
with  a  calm  face  and  no  sign  of  interest. 

But  Lord  Inch  neither  looked  nor  suspected.  If  he  had 
thought  of  being  followed  by  anyone,  Rivers  was  the  only 
man  whom  he  would  have  suspected,  and  that  would  have 
been  to  him  a  matter  of  indifference.  So  he  went  steadily 
and  rather  slowly  on,  thinking  that  it  was  a  good  thing, 
after  all,  that  he  had  faithfully  promised  Maitland  to  take  a 
rest  with  the  new  year,  and  that  if  that  scoundrel  Eivers 
came  back  to  worry  him  again,  Maitland  should  hear  it. 
After  all,  Maitland  was  a  good  fellow,  and  had  lived  too  long 
and  too  wide  a  life  to  judge  harshly  of  a  fault  regretted  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century.  Was  it  not  said  by  some  that  a  man 
changed  in  every  atom  each  seven  years  ?  Three  times 
seven,  and  over,  say  four  times  seven  years  had  gone  by, 
every  year,  Lord  Inch  thought,  a  year  of  penitence  with  at 
tempts  at  atonement  ; — for  the  man  could  not  help  exag 
gerating  the  interval,  and  his  own  remorse,  which  had  really 
only  reawakened  a  couple  of  years  ago,  just  as  he  exagger 
ated,  let  us  hope,  his  own  crime,  and  the  danger  that  he  ran 
of  unending  shame  if  Rivers  should  tell  what  he  knew.  Let 
him,  at  least,  have  credit  for  greater  courage  than  you  or  I 
possibly  might  have  shown,  had  we  been  in  his  place,  and  be 
lieved  as  he  did;  for  Lord  Inch  was  doggedly,  desperately 
determined  that,  come  what  might,  Rivers  should  not  be  his 
master,  nor  would  he  let  his  own  trouble  come  between  him 
and  his  le<ral  duties. 


240  MR.    PETERS 

He  broke  off  his  unpleasant  reflections  to  turn  in  at 
'Melia's  open  door,  another  actor  in  the  drama  that  was 
going  on  so  slowly  and  yet  so  steadily  under  the  indifferent 
gaze  of  the  wooden  Highlander.  Peters,  following  not  far 
behind,  came  no  farther,  but,  after  waiting  for  a  few  min 
utes  to  make  sure  that  Lord  Inch  had  not  gone  in  by  chance 
but  with  some  intention,  put  two  and  two  together  with  the 
help  of  what  he  had  heard  during  the  last  twenty-four  hours 
from  Rivers,  and  turned  homeward  to  see  what  the  state  of 
that  worthy  might  be,  and  to  tell  him,  perhaps,  who  was  his 
daughter's  latest  customer. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

AD   AVISANDUM 

'MELIA  had  passed  a  lonely  and  tearful  day.  It  was  one 
thing  to  roundly  scold  an  impulsive  young  man  for  taking 
liberties,  and  quite  another  thing  not  to  feel  entirely  de 
serted  in  consequence. 

'Melia  had  been  honestly  angry,  and  was  quite  prepared  to 
stand  by  all  that  she  had  said.  She  was  secretly  far  too  fond 
of  Archie  to  get  him  into  trouble.  Still,  a  two  days'  absence 
following  upon  a  declaration  was  not  at  all  according  to  Life 
and  Love,  as  set  forth  in  her  novels,  nor  did  it  at  all  agree 
with  'Melia's  own  ideas  thereon.  So  she  had  cried  a  good 
deal  that  day  in  the  little  back  room,  bedewing  the  red  set 
tee  with  her  tears,  and  drinking  more  tea  than  was  good  for 
her  in  vain  attempts  to  keep  up  her  spirits.  Now,  naturally, 
she  had  a  bad  headache,  and  was  wishing  that  she  could  go 
home  to  bed,  when  the  sound  of  a  step  in  the  shop  brought 
her  out. 

It  was  a  tired-looking  elderly  gentleman,  with  close-cut 
gray  hair  and  a  clean-shaven  face,  who  asked  for  a  good 
cigar,  and  leant  upon  the  counter  while  'Melia  brought  out 
different  boxes  from  various  corners,  the  dearer-priced 
cigars  not  being  so  commonly  in  request  as  mixtures  and 
cigarettes. 

Business  is  business,  as  'Melia  conscientiously  felt,  and  a 
new  customer  must  be  treated  properly,  whether  one  had  a 
headache  or  no.  So  'Melia  fetched  out  a  cane-bottomed 
chair  from  behind  the  curtain,  and  placed  it  by  the  counter, 
so  that  the  gentleman  might  sit  comfortably  and  turn  over 
the  contents  of  the  boxes. 

10 


242  MR.   PETERS 

"  Yes,  I'm  tired,"  he  told  her,  and  seemed  grateful  to  her 
for  thinking  of  the  chair.  Then,  after  he  had  chosen  a  box, 
which  he  took  a  long  time  to  do,  asking  her  advice  about 
them  as  he  turned  the  cigars  over,  he  began  to  chat  of  her 
work  instead  of  going  away. 

"  You  look  tired  too,"  he  told  her,  though  what  made  him 
say  that,  'Melia  didn't  know,  seeing  that  he  was  always  look 
ing  at  the  cigars. 

"  I'll  go  home  and  get  to  bed  soon,"  she  told  him.  "  The 
place  gets  on  one's  nerves  at  times,  sir." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  daresay,"  agreed  the  gentleman.  "  Now,  I 
think  I  will  have  a  box  of  those  also.  You  said  you  could 
recommend  them,  did  you  not  ?  " 

"  They're  milder  than  those  you've  got,"  'Melia  told  him, 
"  and  fresh  in." 

"  Let  me  see  them  again,"  and  he  pulled  this  fresh  box 
over,  and  sniffed  at  the  contents. 

"  The  box  is  broken,"  she  pointed  out.  "  It's  one  short, 
but  if  you  like  them  I've  got  another  box  not  touched." 

"  I  should  not  have  counted,"  said  the  quiet  gentleman, 
looking  at  her. 

"  You  wouldn't  need  to,  if  you  got  'em  from  me,"  said 
'Melia. 

"  Honesty  is  the  best  policy,  you  believe  ?  "  asked  her 
visitor.  "  May  I  try  one  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  'Melia  told  him,  and  snipped  off  the  end 
of  the  cigar,  and  held  a  light  to  it,  so  that  the  tired  gentle 
man  needn't  rise  from  the  chair. 

"  As  for  honesty,"  she  said,  a  little  dismally,  "  I  don't 
know  if  it  pays  or  not.  Sometimes  it  looks  like  it  didn't." 

She  blinked  tearfully,  but  the  stranger  was  apparently 
trying  his  cigar  with  great  care,  and  didn't  seem  to  notice 
her. 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that,"  he  told  her.  "  Your  business 
doesn't  prosper  then  ?  " 


AD  AVISANDUM  243 

"  It's  not  mine,"  'Melia  explained,  "  and  I  think  it's  just 
a  fancy  of  my  master's  and  he  can  afford  it  anyway,  though 
I  try  to  make  it  pay.  It  wasn't  that  I  was  thinking  of." 

"  Honesty  has  its  reward  in  the  long  run,"  said  the  quiet 
gentleman,  "  if  only  it  gain  for  its  exponent  an  easy  con 
science." 

"  P'r'aps,"  said  'Melia  doubtfully,  not  quite  sure  whether 
she  understood,  "  but  it's  not  always  easy  to  say  what's 
honesty.  Your  cigar's  gone  out,  sir."  She  gave  him  an 
other  light. 

"  Oh,  come  now  ! "  the  strange  gentleman  insisted,  after 
thanking  her,  "  the  path  of  honesty  is  always  quite  plain  to 
everyone." 

There  was  a  little  hardness  or  bitterness,  something  that 
caught  'Melia's  ear  as  he  spoke,  but  he  was  looking  at  his 
cigar  end,  and  showed  no  change  of  expression  that  'Melia 
could  see.  She  just  shook  her  head  dubiously,  and  the 
other  noticed  it  at  once. 

"  You  don't  agree  with  me  ?  Well,  I  may  be  wrong,  of 
course,  but  I  can't  think  of  a  case  at  the  moment.  I  don't 
think  you  can  either." 

"  Oh,  there  must  be  lots,"  'Melia  insisted,  but,  upon  being 
challenged,  could  remember  or  imagine  none  but  the  partic 
ular  instance  she  had  in  her  mind,  which  she  tried  to  modify 
for  the  occasion,  since  the  quiet  gentleman  was  still  quite 
sure  that  she  couldn't  give  him  an  example. 

"  S'posin',"  she  suggested  at  last,  "  that  another  young 
lady,  only  better  off  you  know,  say  my  master's  daughter, 
wanted  to  be  very  friendly,  and  s'posin'  I  felt  friendly  too, 
but  knew  it  wasn't  for  her  good,  should  I  show  what  I  feel, 
or  should  I  pretend  I  didn't  care  a  fig  for  her  ?  " 

"  But  that's  an  impossible  case,  my  dear  young  lady," 
said  the  quiet  gentleman,  watching  his  cigar  go  out  again 
without  any  movement  to  stop  it,  "  your  master's  daughter 
could  take  no  harm  from  you." 


244  MR.    PETERS 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  'Melia,  blushing  and  blinking 
again.  It  was  so  pleasant  to  have  something  kind  said  when 
everyone  was  against  her.  "  Let's  say  my  master's  son,  then. 
It's  all  the  easier  to  say  because  he  hasn't  got  one  that  I 
know  of,  nor  any  other  men-folk." 

"  Ah  !  that  case  is  not  so  easy  after  all,"  her  visitor  ad 
mitted,  and  sat  staring  at  the  dead  ash  of  his  cigar  in 
silence. 

"  There,  you  see,  sir,  it's  easy  to  think  of  such  a  thing," 
'Melia  pointed  out  with  an  air  of  melancholy  triumph, 
"  though,  as  I  say,  it  doesn't  matter,  for  there's  no  such 
gentleman  belonging  to  my  master  at  all." 

It  might  not  matter,  hut  'Melia's  voice  sounded  rather  as 
if  it  did.  She  thought  as  much,  and  was  glad  the  gentleman 
didn't  seem  to  notice  things. 

"  Supposing  our  friend  the  master's  son  did  exist,"  he 
asked  presently,  "  have  you  got  a  case  then  ?  What  would 
be  the  good  of  pretending  you  had  no  interest  in  him,  if  you 
were  fond  of  him  ?  " 

"  When  you're  fond  of  people  you  don't  want  to  hurt  'em, 
do  you  ?  "  asked  'Melia  rather  hotly,  and  the  quiet  gentle 
man  looked  at  her  rather  curiously  again. 

"  No  one  ever  accused  me  of  being  fond  of  people,"  he 
said  dryly,  and  got  up  to  go.  "  Well,"  he  told  her,  "  the 
problem  of  your  master's  son,  who,  I  will  remember,  doesn't 
exist,  interests  me.  I'm  often  consulted  in  other  people's 
private  affairs,  but  they're  mostly  arguing  their  own  in 
terests,  and  don't  say  much  about  those  of  the  other  side 
that  sounds  as  if  they  cared  for  them.  May  I  think  the 
thing  over  and  come  in  again  some  time  ?  " 

"  Oh,  cert'nly,"  said  'Melia,  "  and  will  you  take  your 
cigars  with  you,  or  shall  I  leave  them  at  your  house  ?  " 

"  You  might  send  them,"  he  began,  and  then  stopped, 
remembering  that  it  involved  giving  an  address. 

"  No,  I'll  take  them  with  me,"  he  told  her,  and  then 


AD  AVISANDUM  245 

stopped  again,  finding  that  he  chanced  not  to  have  enough 
money  in  his  pocket. 

"  I  haven't  enough  money  to  pay  for  them,"  he  added. 
"I  think  I  must  leave  them  with  you  till  I  come  again, 
since  I  am  a  stranger." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  'Melia  reassuringly.  "  We  get 
to  know  who's  to  be  trusted.  You  can  take  'em  if  you  don't 
mind  the  trouble.  Only  you  might  pay  for  that  one  extra, 
though  you  haven't  half  smoked  it.  You  won't  light  up 
again,  will  you  ?  They  say  it's  horrid  to  do  that  with  a 
half-smoked  cigar,  but  still  it's  a  sixpence  half  wasted,  as 
you  may  say." 

But  her  visitor  refused  to  light  up  again.  He  laid  down 
a  sixpence,  and,  taking  up  the  two  boxes,  wished  her  good 
night. 

"  The  case  of  this  gentleman — who  doesn't  exist,"  he 
suggested  from  the  doorway,  "  would  not  be  worth  thinking 
out  unless  one  were  quite  sure  that  one  wished  to  do  the 
best  thing  for  him.  We  must  look  after  ourselves,  you 
know." 

"  Oh,  quite  sure  about  that,"  'Melia  told  him,  "  and  you'll 
come  in  again  if  you  like  the  cigars,  won't  you  ?  I  don't 
always  talk  such  silly  stuff  with  customers  either,  and  I 
can't  tell  why  you  let  me." 

"  Good-night.  I'll  come  again,"  said  the  quiet  gentle 
man,  and,  lifting  his  hat  quite  politely,  stepped  out  into  the 
darkness. 

"  That's  a  nice  sort  of  gentleman,"  'Melia  decided.  "  Nice 
and  chatty,  with  no  nonsense  about  him.  I'd  trust  him  with 
more  than  two  boxes  of  cigars.  Might  as  well  have  had  his 
name  though,  for  all  that.  What  a  silly  fool  I  am  !  As 
long  as  anyone  '11  talk,  or  listen,  for  the  matter  of  that,  I'm 
satisfied.  He's  made  the  time  pass,  anyway,  that's  one 
comfort." 

Then  she  made  an  entry  of  the  two  boxes,  leaving  the 


246  MR.    PETERS 

name  blank,  and  was  glad  to  find  that  her  head  was  not  so 
bad,  and  that  she  could  close  the  place  in  a  couple  of  hours. 
So,  determined  not  to  let  herself  get  dismal  again,  she  took 
up  a  book  at  once  to  read  until  she  could  shut  up  and  go 
awav  "  home." 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 

MINISTERING   TO   A   MIND    DISEASED 

LOED  IXCH  wont  down  the  street  with  his  two  boxes  of 
cigars,  feeling  rather  ashamed.  However  excellent  a  man's 
motive  is,  he  cannot  well  be  proud  of  having  spied  upon  a 
girl. 

'Melia's  friendly  way  of  chatting,  and  the  unsuspicious 
way  in  which  she  let  him  know  just  what  he  wanted, 
showed  the  better  in  contrast  with  his  own  methods  of  pro 
cedure. 

He  had  gone  there  expecting  to  find  a  brazen-faced  young 
person  who  would  be  ready  to  deceive  him  or  defy  him, 
whichever  she  found  most  easy  and  most  profitable.  In 
stead,  here  was  a  pleasant-faced,  good-natured  girl,  whose 
weak  points  were  probably  the  result  of  environment  and 
education,  or  non-education.  It  was  of  no  use  that  he  told 
himself  the  girl  must  be  a  silly  fool,  to  chatter  like  that  with 
the  first  stranger  who  dropped  in.  Her  chatter  wouldn't 
have  had  the  least  significance  to  any  other  stranger,  and 
Lord  Inch  felt  that  her  simplicity  and  honesty  had  been 
more  apparent  than  his  own  during  the  interview.  It  was  a 
comfort  to  know  that  she  would  be  no  consenting  party  to 
her  father's  tricks,  and  to  be  sure  that,  if  Rivers  could  only 
be  cajoled,  or  thwarted,  the  whole  thing  would  be  settled. 
It  would  be  quite  easy  to  get  a  formal  note  from  her,  denying 
that  she  had  the  least  claim  upon  the  youngster.  Lord  Inch 
could  remind  her,  if  necessary,  not  only  of  her  message  to 
him  through  Archie,  but  also  of  this  evening's  chat. 

She  was  far  too  simple  to  think  of  denying  that  Archie 


248  MR.   PETERS 

was  the  person  whose  welfare  she  was  considering  so  anx 
iously. 

After  all,  she  seemed  a  well-meaning  girl,  and  she  should 
be  well  treated.  Lord  Inch  would  call,  himself,  and  talk  it 
over  with  her,  and  see  that  she  was  not  the  loser.  On  second 
thoughts,  since  there  might  be  a  scene  (and  it  was  not 
pleasant  to  think  of  facing  her  as  she  discovered  who  had 
been  her  sympathetic  customer),  he  would  write,  sending  a 
check  for  the  boxes  with  such  a  letter  as  would  bring  the 
desired  acquittal  of  Archie.  Then  her  father,  how  could 
he  be  guarded  against  ?  Lord  Inch  must  think  that  over, 
say  to-morrow  night,  if  he  felt  able  after  his  work  in  Court, 
which  he  doubted.  Maitland  might  be  consulted  safely. 
Maitland  never  preached,  and  never  set  up  to  be  better 
than  other  men  ;  and  by  the  time  these  thoughts  had 
crossed  his  mind,  Lord  Inch  was  at  his  own  door. 

It  was  long  past  their  ordinary  dinner-hour,  and  he  was 
told  that  Mr.  Archie,  after  waiting  some  time,  had  taken 
something  to  eat  and  had  gone  out. 

Lord  Inch  felt  that  this  was  a  relief.  His  work  justified 
a  refusal  to  have  any  discussion  until  to-morrow  night. 
He  had  no  wish  for  dinner,  and  went  straight  to  his  study, 
giving  orders  that  wine  and  biscuits  should  be  brought 
there. 

But  he  could  not  get  the  business  off  his  mind  to-night 
as  he  had  done  last  night.  It  kept  recurring  to  him  while 
he  sipped  his  wine,  and  at  last,  dreading  lest  it  should  really 
affect  the  careful  consideration  of  to-morrow's  work,  he  de 
cided  that  he  must  give  his  confidence  to  someone — a  sure 
way  of  getting  relief.  He  had  promised  to  let  Maitland 
know  if  anything  followed  the  type-written  letter.  To 
share  the  secret  with  a  cool-headed  friend  would  be  to 
lessen  his  troubles,  and  would  clear  his  mind  for  his  work, 
which  must  have  undivided  attention. 

So  he  sent  round  for  Maitland,  without  making  any  fur- 


MINISTERING  TO   A   MIND   DISEASED  249 

ther  attempt  to  put  off  the  evil  day,  which  did  not  now 
seem  altogether  evil,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Maitland 
came. 

kk  The  writer  of  that  letter  has  followed  it  up,"  Lord  Inch 
explained,  directly  the  servant  had  left  the  room.  "  He's 
at  my  throat,  Alec." 

"  Well,"  Maitland  told  him,  quietly,  "  it's  a  comfort  that 
he's  not  at  your  back.  Let's  hear  the  whole  story  and  see 
what's  to  be  done.  That's  your  notion,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  has  come  to  that,"  Lord  Inch  told  him.  "  The 
fact  is,  I  have  fought  shy  of  you,  Alec,  but  to-night  I  have 
more  important  matters  to  think  of  than  how  to  save  my 
miserable  skin,  and  yet  I  cannot  tackle  my  work  with  this 
thing  on  my  mind.  I  can  try  no  more  !  " 

"  Come  then,"  Maitland  answered,  wheeling  the  sofa 
round.  "  Rest  you  there.  I've  brought  my  pipe.  I  may 
smoke  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  do  anything  you  like,  so  long  as  you'll  bear 
with  me  for  half  an  hour,  and  not  be  too  hard  on  me 
after." 

"  I'm  no  lawyer  !  "  Maitland  growled  under  his  breath. 

"  Eh,  what's  that  ?  "  Lord  Inch  asked. 

"  Who  am  I,  to  be  hard  on  you  or  any  other  body  ?  " 
Maitland  asked  more  loudly.  "  Fire  away  !  " 

So  Lord  Inch  told  his  story,  at  first  hesitatingly,  explain 
ing,  excusing,  but  afterwards  speaking  more  directly,  start 
ing  from  the  Bonville  days,  and  bringing  the  tale  up  to 
date.  He  became  half  apologetic  when  telling  of  that  even 
ing's  chat  with  'Melia,  but  he  missed  nothing  of  impor 
tance,  and  lay  back  with  a  sigh  of  relief  when  he  had  fin 
ished. 

Maitland  smoked  uninterruptedly  through  it  all,  and 
said  nothing  until  he  saw  that  the  story  was  ended. 

"  What  like  is  he,  this  Bonville  friend  of  yours  ?  "  he 
asked  at  the  end  of  it  all. 


250  MR.   PETERS 

"  A  swaggering  bully,"  Lord  Inch  told  him.  "  A  tallish 
man  with  black  hair  and  mustache,  and  shifty  eyes.  Calls 
himself  an  Oxford  man,  and  dresses  like  a  swell  mobsman. 
He's  a  broken-down  swindler,  a  low  blackguard.  Mind  you, 
Maitland,  the  man  shall  not  rule  me.  It  would  be  a  greater 
disgrace  to  be  his  'puppet  than  to  let  him  say  all  he  could. 
I've  confessed  to  you,  I'll  confess  to  all  the  world  before 
that  !  " 

"  Patience  !  We'll  manage  him,"  Maitland  said  sooth 
ingly,  remembering  the  figure  he  had  looked  down  upon 
through  the  fog  from  that  same  room.  "  What's  his  own 
history  ?  A  fellow  doesn't  begin  to  be  a  blackguard  at  his 
time  of  life.  He's  your  age  or  thereabouts,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  He  must  be,  thereabouts,"  Lord  Inch  answered,  "  but 
what  his  record  is  I  cannot  tell  you.  I  wish  I  could,  though 
it  is  not  likely  that  would  alter  things.  If  the  fellow  ac 
cuses  me  publicly,  Alec,  I'll  not  deny  it,  though  he  be  fifty 
times  a  liar  and  a  scoundrel." 

"  D'ye  think  I'd  advise  it  ?  "  Maitland  retorted  a  little 
hotly,  but  quieted  down  at  once.  "  What  I  mean  is,  that 
a  scoundrel  like  that  may  have  something  on  his  conscience 
that  would  clear  him  out  of  the  country  at  the  double,  if  he 
thought  it  was  known." 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  Lord  Inch  said,  gloomily.  "  I  don't 
remember  the  man.  All  Bonville  was  about,  that  wretched 
night.  I  have  not  been  able  to  think  the  thing  over  yet, 
since  he  was  here." 

Maitland's  attention  had  just  been  drawn  to  the  decanter 
and  biscuits  on  the  table,  and  he  pointed  to  them. 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  was  taking  some  wine  just  before  you  came  in.  Let 
me  ring  for  another  glass." 

"  Not  for  me.  What  I  want  to  know  is,  when  did  you 
dine  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  had  a  regular  dinner. 


MINISTERING  TO  A  MIND  DISEASED  251 

It  is  of  no  use  frowning  at  me,  Maitland,  for  I  could  not 
help  it.  Work  is  work." 

"  Ay  !  and  break-down  is  break-down,  as  you'll  find," 
Maitland  retorted,  grimly.  "  What  have  you  had  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  had  a  basin  of  soup  for  lunch,"  Lord  Inch  told 
him  with  an  apologetic  air,  while  Maitland  scowled  very 
much  as  an  irate  dominie  might  at  a  careless  pupil,  "  and 
a  cup  of  tea  later." 

"  Mere  wash  !  "  Maitland  told  him,  scornfully.  "  I  know 
what  you'll  have  had.  As  much  nourishment  in  the  soup 
as  in  the  cup  of  tea  maybe  !  " 

"  What  could  I  do  ?  "  Lord  Inch  asked,  querulously. 
"  I  must  keep  my  head  clear.  You  wouldn't  have  me  snore 
on  the  bench,  would  you,  while  a  man's  life  was  fought  for  ? 
If  I  fed  like  a  pig,  I  should  judge  like  a  pig." 

"  If  you  feed  like  a  woman,  you'll  judge  like  one,"  Mait 
land  snapped  at  him.  "  Then,  why  didn't  you  have  a  sen 
sible  meal  when  you  came  in  ?  " 

"  I  was  very  late,  and  I  went,  as  I  have  told  you,  to  see 
that  girl.  I  had  no  appetite  after  that,  and  besides  I  have 
a  great  deal  to  do  to-night." 

"  How  are  you  to  do  it  ?  "  Maitland  growled.  "  Man, 
you're  feeding  on  your  own  brains.  I'll  away  down  to  your 
kitchen  presently,  and  risk  the  rolling-pin  over  my  head  for 
being  a  poking  old  fool  who  doesn't  know  his  place.  Mind, 
you'll  take  what  comes  up  !  " 

"Yes,  I'll  take  it,"  Lord  Inch  promised  him.  "But 
what  are  we  going  to  do  about  all  this,  Alec  ?  " 

"  Nothing — to-night,"  Maitland  declared.  "  I'm  your 
confessor  and  your  judge.  The  whole  thing's  on  my 
shoulders,  and  I'm  away  home  to  smoke  a  pipe  over  it, 
after  I've  been  to  the  kitchen." 

He  rose  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  You  will  shake  hands  still,  then  ?  "  Lord  Inch  asked. 

"  Havers  !  "  Maitland  told  him,  brusquely.  "  That  comes 


252  MR.   PETERS 

of  dirty  water  and  tea  !  D'ye  want  a  penance  to  satisfy 
your  soul  before  I've  thought  it  all  out,  and  had  another 
chat  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  will  do  anything  to  please  you,  Alec.  It  will  be  little 
enough,  I  know,  for  the  trouble  you  have  with  me." 

"  Be  gentle  with  yon  lassie  in  the  tobacconist's  then, 
Inch.  It's  not  for  the  likes  of  you  or  me  to  visit  the  sins 
of  the  fathers  on  the  children.  She's  a  good  lassie,  I'm 
thinking." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  believe  she  is,"  Lord  Inch  agreed.  "  But 
what  would  you  have  me  do,  Alec  ?  I  mustn't  commit 
myself." 

"  Send  her  a  line,  man,  along  with  the  money  for  those," 
pointing  to  the  unopened  boxes  on  the  desk.  "  Sign  it  with 
your  own  name,  and  tell  her  you'll  be  round  again  at  the 
week  end.  Let  her  know  it's  private,  and  if  she's  the  girl 
you  and  Archie  have  found  her,  she  won't  let  a  soul  know, 
and  she'll  respect  you  all  the  more." 

"  Very  well,  to  please  you,"  said  Lord  Inch.  "  I  must  not 
commit  myself,  but  I'll  do  that,  Maitland.  The  girl  is  a 
good  girl,  and  I  don't  bear  her  any  malice.  What  she  sees 
in  the  boy,  I  don't  know." 

"  Man,"  said  Maitland,  impatiently,  "  do  you  think  he 
shows  himself  to  you  as  he  does  to  her  ?  The  boy's  right 
enough." 

"  It  is  possible  the  girl  is,"  Lord  Inch  allowed.  "  She 
might  be  the  making  of  him,  if  she  had  been  of  decent 
people,  with  a  little  money  of  her  own.  Even  as  it  is,  I 
wonder  at  her  fancy.  It  is  partly  his  position,  I  suppose." 

"  I  never  met  the  man  yet,"  said  Maitland,  "  who  wasn't 
concerned  at  the  unspeakable  blindness  of  the  women-folk 
—towards  other  men.  As  for  his  station,  d'ye  think  she'd 
be  so  ready  to  let  him  go,  if  that  was  all  ?  " 

Then,  "  Havering  again,  you  old  fool  !  "  he  muttered  to 
himself,  as  he  made  for  the  door,  turning  for  a  last  word 


MINISTERING   TO   A   MIND  DISEASED  253 

when  he  reached  it.  "  Now  this  business  is  off  your  con 
science,  Inch,  and  it  has  become  my  affair,  I'll  think  it  out, 
and  see  you  before  that  blackguard  calls  for  you  again. 
Mind  that  line  to  the  lassie,  and  see  that  you  follow  cook's 
orders.  She'll  get  them  from  me." 

He  left,  and  presently  some  light  food  came  up,  with 
directions  from  the  doctor  that  he  was  to  take  it  quietly, 
and  not  to  begin  work  for  half  an  hour.  Also  that  there 
would  be  something  ready  for  him  to  take  before  going  to 
bed.  So  Lord  Inch  meekly  did  as  he  was  told,  and  then 
worked  away  at  his  papers  until  far  into  the  night.  Then 
he  wrote  a  little  note,  inclosing  a  check,  to  'Melia,  and, 
addressing  it,  put  it  inside  the  desk  ;  and  Morris,  in  the 
small  hours,  patient  because  of  a  word  that  Maitland  had 
had  with  him,  brought  up  something  more  from  the 
kitchen,  and  Lord  Inch,  with  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  thought 
of  the  sharer  of  his  secret,  went  to  his  bed. 

As  he  passed  along  the  corridor  he  saw  a  light  in  the 
smoking-room,  and  hesitated  at  the  door. 

Archie  must  be  there,  and,  if  he  went  in,  something 
would  be  said  of  the  day's  doings.  The  boy  must  wait. 

He  went  softly  a  little  way  past  the  door  and  along  the 
passage,  then  stopped  again.  The  silly  fellow  must  be  sit 
ting  up  on  the  chance  of  seeing  him,  and,  having  heard 
nothing,  would  wait  longer.  After  all,  the  youngster  had 
been  patient.  It  was  enough  to  try  to  court  sleep  that  night 
burdened  with  one  man's  unspoken  fate,  though  that  man 
was  a  criminal. 

The  boy,  who  at  any  rate  was  no  criminal,  should  wait 
no  longer,  and  Lord  Inch  turned  back. 

He  pushed  the  smoking-room  door  open  quietly,  and 
went  in. 

By  the  ashes  of  a  burnt-out  fire,  fast  asleep,  with  his 
yellow  head  resting  on  the  table,  his  pipe  lying  where  it 
had  fallen  upon  the  floor,  lay  Archie.  His  father  stood 


254  MR.   PETERS 

over  him,  watching  gravely  for  a  moment  before  speaking. 
Archie  was  sleeping  so  soundly  now,  his  face  was  so  quiet 
and  untroubled,  that  Lord  Inch  felt  sorry  to  wake  him,  and 
did  so  gently  enough. 

The  boy  started  up,  rubbing  his  eyes. 

"  Hullo  !    I  didn't  hear  you,  father.    What's  the  time  ?  " 

He  looked  at  the  clock,  and  then  at  Lord  Inch  again. 

"  Two  o'clock,  and  you're  not  in  bed  !  What'll  Dr.  Mait- 
land  say  to  this  ?  He  told  me  you  wanted  rest  more  than 
anything." 

"  Never  mind  me,"  Lord  Inch  told  him,  surprised  that 
Archie  should  think  of  him  at  all.  "  It  is  time  you  were  in 
bed  too.  We  will  both  go  after  we  have  had  a  talk." 

"  Not  now,"  Archie  declared.  "  I  saw  Maitland  after  he 
left  you,  and  promised  I'd  not  see  you  to-night." 

"  Then,  for  what  are  you  waiting  ?  "  Lord  Inch  asked 
incredulously. 

"  Oh,  well,  I  thought  I  might  as  well  stay  up  a  bit," 
Archie  told  him  in  rather  a  shamefaced  way.  "  I  got  think 
ing,"  and  Lord  Inch,  who,  a  week  ago,  would  have  sneered 
at  the  suggestion  of  thought  from  Archie,  now  said  noth 
ing.  He  had  no  idea  that  Archie  was  there  because  Mait 
land  had  told  him  to  keep  an  eye  upon  his  father  that  night, 
and  see  that  he  got  quietly  off  to  bed  when  his  work  was 
done. 

"  He  shall  drop  work  directly  this  trial  is  over,"  Maitland 
had  told  Archie  on  the  doorstep.  "  Promise  me,  laddie, 
that  he  goes  straight  to  his  bed  and  talks  of  nothing  to 
night." 

So  Archie  promised,  and  had  been  paying  half -hourly 
visits  to  the  study  key-hole  until  he  fell  asleep. 

"Well,"  Lord  Inch  said,  curious,  perhaps,  to  see  how 
far  Archie's  self-control  went,  "  I  called  on  Miss  Kivers 
to-day." 

"  You  did  !  " 


MINISTERING  TO   A  MIND   DISEASED  255 

"  I  did,"  said  Lord  Inch.  "  She's  a  good  girl,  I  believe, 
Archie,  and  a  sensible  girl.  I've  great  respect  for  her. 
But- 

He  was  going  to  seat  himself  in  the  easy-chair  from  which 
Archie  had  risen,  and  to  explain  matters,  who  knows  ho\v 
far,  but  Archie  stopped  him,  having  Maitland's  warnings 
still  fresh  in  his  memory. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,  father/'  he  said,  trying  to  speak 
quietly.  "  You  can  see  she's  pretty  too,  and  she's  as  good 
as  she's  pretty.  You'll  like  her  more  the  more  you  know  of 
her.  We  can't  talk  of  that  now  though.  You  must  go  to 
bed.  Maitland  said  so." 

Lord  Inch  stared  incredulously,  but  Archie  persisted. 

"  Doctor's  orders,"  he  told  his  father  quietly,  and  Lord 
Inch  gave  way,  wondering  sleepily  where  the  boy  got  that 
new  authoritative  manner,  and  where  his  own  will  had  gone. 
Perhaps  the  brew  of  hot  wine,  brought  up  half  an  hour 
before  from  the  kitchen,  had  something  to  do  with  it.  At 
anyrate,  he  did  not  argue  the  point,  but  went  to  his 
room,  wishing  Archie  a  more  affectionate  good-night  than 
usual  at  the  door  ;  and  Archie  went  off,  being  wide  awake 
now,  to  smoke  another  pipe,  and  wonder,  uselessly,  about 
his  father's  interview  with  'Melia. 


CHAPTER    XXXV 

LABOR   IN   VAIN 

WHEN  Mr.  Peters  had  satisfied  himself  that  Lord  Inch 
was  not  merely  a  chance  customer  for  'Melia,  he  went  back 
to  the  House  of  Residence  much  more  quickly  than  usual. 
Still,  as  he  went,  he  found  breath  enough  to  hum  the  quaint 
little  tune  which  was,  for  him,  significant  of  certain  trains 
of  thought.  The  air  was  a  common  one,  still  heard,  occa 
sionally,  on  old  barrel-organs.  "  0  bianca  e  fredda  " — (Oh, 
pale  and  cold),  Mr.  Peters  hummed,  and  his  thoughts  trav 
elled  across  the  sea  as  his  voice  rose. 

Going  up  the  stairs,  he  felt  in  his  pocket  for  the  key  of 
Rivers'  room,  and  laughed. 

"  The  good  Rivers  will  be  hungry,  to  despair,"  he  told 
himself,  and  seemed  pleased  at  the  notion,  which,  however, 
was  not  correct. 

He  found  Rivers  crouched  over  the  fire,  sober  enough 
now,  but  not  at  all  hungry,  and  with  a  splitting  headache 
that  made  him  quite  useless  to  Peters. 

That  gentleman  saw  the  state  of  things,  but  spoke  un 
concernedly. 

"  My  poor  Rivers,"  he  said,  "  you  are  hungry  ?  " 

"  I'm  not,"  Rivers  told  him  sullenly,  "  but  I'm  as  sore  as 
if  I  had  been  beaten  like  a  carpet." 

"  It  will  be  rheumatism,"  suggested  Peters.  "  You  would 
sleep  on  the  floor,  but  now  you  are  better,  and  should  take 
exercise.  Will  you  not  come  out  ?  " 

"  Not  I  !  "  Rivers  told  him,  with  an  oath.  "  This  cli 
mate's  killing  me.  I'll  go  back  to  the  States.  I  wish  I  was 
dead  !  " 


LABOR   IN   VAIN  25? 

This  aspiration  amused  Peters  beyond  measure.  He 
shouted  with  laughter,  and  paid  not  the  slightest  atten 
tion  to  the  other,  who,  growing  angry,  cursed  him  effu 
sively. 

"  The  good  Eivers  is  ready  for  Heaven,"  he  announced, 
"  but  we  cannot  let  him  go  yet.  What  a  pity  that  he  can 
not  take  the  place  of  the  man  who  will  be  told  to-morrow 
that  he  must  die  !  " 

He  still  laughed,  but  there  was  nothing  about  his  face  to 
provoke  laughter  in  others.  It  had  the  effect  of  silencing 
the  curses  of  Rivers,  who  looked  at  him  with  a  maudlin 
puzzled  air. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  about  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Who 
must  die  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  one  who  matters,"  Peters  told  him  ;  "  they  say 
that  at  the  Court  to-morrow  a  man  will  be  told  that  he 
shall  die  for  killing  someone.  That  is  all.  It  is  just,  is  it 
not  ?  You  are  a  scholar,  my  good  Rivers.  Teach  a  poor 
foreigner  !  What  is  it  your  Scripture  tells  you  ?  '  Whoso 
ever  slayeth How  does  it  go  ?  " 

" '  Whosoever  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his 
blood  be  shed,' "  Rivers  told  him,  and  bent  nearer  the  fire, 
shivering. 

"  Ah  !  that  is  just,"  Peters  agreed,  and  then  sat  down 
and  bent  over  the  fire  too,  as  if  cold,  leaning  forward  until 
his  face  was  close  to  Rivers'  face. 

"That  is  just,"  he  repeated,  "and  so  it  is  certain  that 
is  what  the  Just  Judge  will  tell  him  to-morrow." 

He  watched,  but  Rivers  had  never  heard  of  the  Just 
Judge,  and  made  no  movement  except  to  rub  his  hands, 
and  then  stretch  them  towards  the  blaze. 

"  Who  was  that  pretty  boy  we  drank  with  two  nights  ago, 
my  good  Rivers  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly. 

"  Mr.  Archibald  Inch,"  Rivers  told  him,  his  bemuddled 
brain  still  occupied  with  his  own  thoughts. 

17 


258  MR.   PETERS 

"  Ah,  it  will  be  his  father,  then,  who  is  the  Just  Judge," 
Peters  observed  quietly,  and  it  was  now  Eivers'  turn  to 
laugh,  as  he  twisted  round. 

"  Is  that  what  they  call  him  ?  "  he  sneered. 

"  Yes.  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Peters  placidly,  and  Rivers 
sneered  again. 

"  The  Just  Judge  !  "  he  repeated  ;  "  why,  I  could  tell 
you  things — that  I  may  tell  you  some  day,  but  not  now," 
and  with  that  he  lapsed  into  silence,  and  brooded  over  the 
fire,  while  Peters  watched  him. 

"  They  are  rich,  are  they  not  ?  "  Peters  asked  presently. 
"  It  will  be  good  for  your  daughter  to  have  the  family  Inch 
for  customers,  is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  Archie  will  be  a  good  customer  in  the  end," 
said  Rivers,  with  a  grin. 

"  And  the  father,"  asked  Peters,  innocently,  "  does  he 
go  to  Miss  Rivers  for  his  tobacco  ?  " 

"  He  doesn't  go  there  at  all,"  Rivers  said.  "  What  do 
you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  saw  him  there  to-night,"  Peters  told  him,  and  with  an 
oath  Rivers  started  from  his  chair. 

For  a  moment  Peters,  who  had  quite  given  up  hope 
of  rousing  the  man,  and  was  only  amusing  himself  in  his 
own  peculiar  way,  really  thought  that  he  was  going  out, 
and,  laughing  to  himself,  he  determined  to  follow  and  see 
what  was  to  be  seen.  But  Rivers  sank  back  into  his  chair 
almost  at  once,  too  muddled  for  any  prompt  action. 

"  I  have  not  seen  Miss  Rivers  since  we  had  our  most 
merry  meeting,"  Peters  suggested,  frowning  a  little. 
"  Shall  we  pay  our  respects  ?  " 

"  You  can  go  if  you  like,"  Rivers  told  him,  turning  his 
back  and  crouching  over  the  fire  again.  "  Give  my  com 
pliments  to  Lord  Inch  if  you  find  him  there,  and  say  that 
I  shall  do  myself  the  honor  of  seeing  him  soon.  Good 
night  ! " 


LABOR  IN    VAIN  259 

"  The  good  Rivers  !  "  Peters  soliloquized  in  the  softest  of 
voices,  standing  over  him  and  smiling  down.  "  He  turns 
me  out  !  Ah,  well.  Good-night,  my  Rivers  !  I  will  pay 
my  respects,  and  yours,  to  your  daughter,  and  to  Lord  Inch 
if  I  am  not  too  late,"  and  he  went  away  without  remember 
ing,  or  at  anyrate  seeming  to  care,  that  he,  too,  had  eaten 
no  dinner. 

As  he  passed  down,  Mrs.  Jimps  opened  her  door,  and 
beckoned  him  in. 

"  I've  the  tenderest  steak,  Captain  Peters,  kept  ready  to 
send  up  to  your  room.  You  aren't  going  out  again  surely  ! 
Think  !  A  rump-steak  and  fried  potatoes." 

Mrs.  Jimps  smiled  upon  him  bewitchingly,  and  at  the 
same  time  with  a  touch  of  melancholy,  as  of  one  with  hppe 
deferred,  but  Mr.  Peters  was  obdurate. 

"  I  am  away,"  he  told  Mrs.  Jimps.  "  I  have  no  heart  for 
food,  my  best  Mrs.  Jimps." 

"  How  is  that,  Captain  Peters  ? "  Mrs.  Jimps  asked 
tremulously,  feeling  that  the  question  might  seem  intru 
sive,  the  causes  for  loss  of  appetite  being  so  various.  But 
Mr.  Peters  would  not  gratify  her  curiosity.  He  said  merely 
that  he  hoped  to  be  better  very  soon  now,  and  went  on  his 
way,  leaving  Mrs.  Jimps  to  wonder,  in  solitude,  whether 
anything  she  could  say  would  be  likely  to  expedite  a  cure. 


MR.    PETERS   MAKES   A    PROMISE 

Do  what  she  would,  'Melia  could  not  settle  down  to  her 
book  that  night,  after  her  sympathetic  new  customer  had 
left.  Why  hadn't  Archie,  or  her  father,  or  even  Cap'n 
Peters  been  in  ?  If  it  had  not  been  for  Rivers'  strict  com 
mands  that  'Melia  was  never  to  call  for  him  at  the  House 
of  Residence,  she  would  have  made  up  her  mind  to  go  there 
on  her  way  home.  As  it  was,  she  was  the  more  restless 
because  she  couldn't  go.  There  was  a  high  wind  that 
night,  and  it  made  itself  heard  even  in  this  back  street, 
whistling  about  the  keyholes,  and  moaning  down  the  chim 
ney  of  'Melia's  little  back-room,  now  and  then  puffing  out 
a  cloud  of  smoke,  and  making  her  uncomfortable,  as  well 
as  more  nervous  and  melancholy  than  ever. 

She  was  beginning  to  wonder  whether,  after  all,  to  have 
a  good  cry  wouldn't  be  the  most  profitable  way  of  passing 
the  last  half-hour  before  closing  the  shop.  She  was  begin 
ning  to  feel,  too,  that  she  had  very  little  choice  but  to  cry, 
when  Peters  came  in,  and  had  a  hearty  welcome. 

"  I  thought  you'd  all  forgotten  me  !  "  'Melia  told  him, 
and  then  wondered  how  much  he  knew  of  her  last  encounter 
with  Archie  and  her  father.  "  Where's  father  ?  "  she  de 
manded. 

"  He  has  a  cold,"  Peters  explained,  "  and  sits  by  the  fire 
with  a  hot  something-to-drink." 

At  this  'Melia  was  no  better  satisfied.  She  fidgeted  a 
little,  looking  at  Peters  and  looking  away  again,  but  spoke 
at  last. 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you,  straight,"  she  told  him.  "  You 
and  I  are  friends,  aren't  we  ?  If  I  want  you  to  sit  still  an' 


MR.    PETERS  MAKES   A   PROMISE  261 

listen,  I  must  make  you  comfortable,  go's  you'll  be  patient. 
Come  inside  an'  sit  down.  I  don't  think  there's  any  smoke 
to  speak  of  in  there  now." 

Peters  looked  at  her,  wondering  what  she  was  going  to 
say,  but  made  no  answer,  and,  following  her  behind  the 
curtain,  sat  down  upon  the  old  red  settee,  which  creaked 
under  his  weight. 

"  I  can  speak  plain  ?  "  'Melia  asked.  "  We  are  friends, 
ain't  we  ?  "  and  waited,  somewhat  to  Peters'  surprise,  for 
an  answer. 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  "  he  said  at  last,  shrugging  his  shoul 
ders.  "  A  very  clever  man  told  me,  when  I  was  so  high," 
and  he  held  his  cigar  some  four  feet  from  the  ground,  "  that 
our  friends  are  those  who  are  useful.  Am  I  useful  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes  !  "  'Melia  told  him,  indignantly,  "  'course  you 
are.  Didn't  you  teach  me  to  bike,  and  ain't  you  a  friend  of 
father's  ?  I  don't  like  your  clever  men's  savin's  though. 
They're  like  lemonade  with  the  sugar  left  out.  Maybe  very 
healthy,  and  maybe  not,  I  can't  tell.  But  there's  a  nasty 
sharp  taste.  Judgin'  by  that,  I'm  no  friend  o'  yours.  I'm 
never  of  no  use  to  no  one,  unless  it's  those  who  pay  me  to 
do  this  job.  I've  done  nothin'  for  you." 

"  Pardon  !  a  great  deal,"  Peters  assured  her  solemnly. 
"  You  introduce  me  to  your  excellent  father,  the  good 
Eivers,  a  gentleman  of  Oxford,  and  to  that  clever  and 
amiable  young  gentleman,  Mr.  Archie.  They  are  to  me — 
the  wanderer,  the  homeless  man — as  equals.  We  drink  to 
gether  like  brothers." 

"  That's  just  it  !  "  'Melia  interrupted.  "  That's  what  I 
want  to  talk  about.  There  was  a  lot  too  much  of  it  two 
nights  ago,  Oap'n  Peters,  and  I  can't  have  it  here  again." 

"  Did  I  drink  too  much  ?  "  Peters  asked,  quietly. 

"  No,  Cap'n  Peters,  I  don't  say  as  you  did,"  'Melia  told 
him  apologetically.  "  But  Mr.  Inch  did.  He  came  round 
an'  said  so." 


262  MR.    PETERS 

"  That  was  foolish  of  him,"  Peters  suggested.  "  Why  did 
he  come  round  and  say  that  ?  " 

"  AVell,"  'Melia  said,  carefully  smoothing  a  crease  out  of 
the  red  table-cloth,  "  I  s'pose  he  thought  I'd  like  to  know 
he  was  sorry." 

Peters  watched,  smoking  his  cigar  in  silence,  until  the 
crease  was  thoroughly  disposed  of,  and  'Melia  looked  up  at 
him.  She  dropped  her  eyes  again,  however,  on  meeting 
his. 

"  And  the  good  Rivers,"  he  asked  presently,  "  has  he  been 
round  to  say  that  he  had  too  much,  and  is  sorry  ?  " 

"  Now,  Cap'n  Peters,  I  won't  be  talked  to  in  that  tone  of 
voice,"  'Melia  told  him,  sharply.  "  No,  it's  no  use,"  she 
went  on,  as  Peters  seemed  inclined  to  protest,  "  I  won't, 
and  so  I  tell  you.  It  may  be  my  foolishness,  but  there's 
times  when  I  think  you're  foolin'  me.  My  father's  my 
father,  and  I  won't  have  him  laughed  at.  So,  there  !  " 

''  If  I  laughed  to  you  at  your  father,  I  did  foolishly,"  said 
Peters,  and  'Melia  was  pacified. 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  'im,"  she  went  on,  "  now 
we  understand  one  another,  and  I  can  trust  you." 

"  My  clever  friend,"  Mr.  Peters  told  her,  "  said  he  could 
trust  no  one." 

"  Pore  chap  !  "  said  'Melia,  pityingly,  "  he  must  'ave  'ad 
a  time,  but  we  can't  help  that.  Now,  about  father.  You 
know  I  don't  scarcely  know  him  better  than  you  do." 

"  I  know,"  Peters  agreed  readily. 

"  And  I'm  kept  a  prisoner  in  this  place  too,"  said  'Melia, 
looking  round  with  a  shrug.  "  Now,  I  wish  you'd  help  me 
with  him,  Cap'n  Peters." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Peters. 

"  Well,  you  know,  p'r'aps  he's  told  you,  and  I  can  trust 
you  anyway.  He's  got  some  business  here,  Cap'n  Peters. 
I  don't  know  what  it  is,  but  he  says  he's  goin'  to  make  a  lot 
of  money." 


MR.    PETERS   MAKES   A   PROMISE  263 

"  I  know,"  Peters  told  her,  nodding. 

"  Well,  if  he  did  that,"  said  'Melia,  cheering  up  at  the 
thought  of  it,  and  putting  Archie  out  of  the  question,  at 
anyrate  for  the  moment,  "  'course  I'd  leave  the  shop,  I 
s'pose,  and  look  after  him  ?  " 

She  looked  at  Peters  for  approval,  and  he  nodded. 

"  As  things  is — are,  I  mean,  I  can't,"  she  went  on. 
"  Now,  you're  a  big  strong  man,  and  when  you  make  up 
your  mind  to  a  thing,  you'll  do  it,  won't  you  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Peters,- without  any  hesitation. 

"  Well,  I  want  you  to  keep  him  out  of  mischief  for  me. 
Will  you  ?  "  she  continued.  "  There's  been  bad  times  for 
both  of  us,  you  know,  and  bein'  a  gentleman,  well,  he  feels 
more  of  a  difference  than  me,  who've  never  had  things 
much  different,  except  for  mother.  Maybe  in  lively  com 
pany,  like  t'other  night,  he  drinks  a  bit.  I  don't  know,  but 
if  he  does,  it's  to  drown  things,  as  you  may  say." 

"  It  is  possible,"  Mr.  Peters  allowed. 

"  Well,  will  you  help  me  ?  "  'Melia  demanded.  "  I'd 
do  a  good  turn  for  you  if  I  could,  Cap'n  Peters." 

"  Help,  how  ?  " 

"  Keep  an  eye  on  him,  so  that  he  doesn't  get  into 
trouble,"  'Melia  suggested,  "  and  see  if  you  can  help  to 
settle  his  business." 

"  That  is  all  you  want  me  to  promise  ?  "  asked  Peters, 
rising  and  stretching  to  his  full  height,  with  his  hands 
above  his  head  as  if  cramped.  "  That  is  all  ?  " 

"  That's  all  !  "  said  'Melia,  after  reflection,  "  and  very 
kind  of  you,  too,  Cap'n  Peters,  if  you'll  take  the  trouble." 

"  To  keep  an  eye  on  him,"  repeated  Peters,  "  and  to  help 
to  finish  his  business  as  quickly  as  possible  ?  " 

"  So  as  I  may  take  care  of  him,"  added  'Melia.  "  Will 
you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Peters  promised.  "  I  will  always  keep  an  eye  on 
him,  and  help  to  finish  his  business  as  quickly  as  possible," 


264  MR.    PETERS 

and  he  added  some  words  that  'Melia  didn't  understand. 
"  It  is  an  oath,"  he  explained.  "  I  wish  all  evil  may  come 
to  me  if  I  break  it." 

"  That's  the  way,  I've  read  in  books,  with  you  foreign 
gentlemen,"  said  'Melia,  with  regret.  "  It's  not  English 
you  know,  and  I  don't  know  as  I  like  it  so  well." 

Mr.  Peters  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and,  seeming  to  think 
he  heard  someone  in  the  shop,  pushed  aside  the  curtain  and 
stood  looking  out. 

"  There  is  no  one  there,"  'Melia  assured  him.  "  I'm  that 
used  to  all  the  noises,  that  I'd  know  in  a  jiffy.  Come  now, 
none  o'  your  foreign  swears  over  this  little  job.  1  give 
it  you  back.  Say  '  yes,'  and  shake  hands  on  it,  English 
fashion  ?  " 

Mr.  Peters,  still  looking  out  into  the  shop,  and  not 
speaking  very  clearly,  assured  her  that  it  was  "  yes  "  a 
thousand  times,  but  did  not  turn  round,  and  seemed  to  be 
unaware  of  her  outstretched  hand. 

He  began  asking  her  about  her  day's  work,  whether  the 
business  was  improving  fast,  and  what  customers  had  been 
in  that  evening.  But  he  began  to  move  out  almost  as  he 
spoke,  and  got  beyond  the  curtain  before  'Melia  realized 
that  he  was  going. 

"  What's  the  hurry  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I'm  hungry,"  he  told  her,  over  his  shoulder.  "  Talking 
makes  me  hungry.  G'ood-night  to  you,  I  am  going." 

Sure  enough,  he  was  not  only  going,  but  gone,  before 
'Melia  reached  the  door. 

"  There's  a  queer  man  !  "  she  soliloquized,  watching  un 
til  he  passed  under  a  lamp  and  disappeared  in  the  shadows 
beyond.  "  Talkin'  makes  Mm  'ungry  !  Wy,  I  b'lieve  'twas 
me  did  the  talkin.'  P'r'aps  he  meant  listening.  Or  p'r'aps 
he  was  sick  of  it.  My,  Sandy  !  "  (addressing  the  mull- 
offering  gentleman  at  her  side),  "  it's  long  after  eleven,  and 
a  good  thing  he's  gone  anyway.  If  he'd  stayed  on,  I'd  have 


MR.    PETERS   MAKES  A   PROMISE  265 

chattered  no  end.  I  expect  you're  the  only  safe  one  to  hear 
about  one's  young  man,  ain't  you  ?  Come  awa'  ben,  then  !  " 

This  invitation  was  'Melia's  only  attempt  at  the  vernac 
ular,,  and  was  never  addressed  to  anyone  save  Sandy.  She 
wheeled  him  into  the  shop,  and  made  a  prettier  picture  than 
she  knew  of,  as  she  went  on  tiptoe,  and  bestowed  a  kiss  upon 
the  unmoved  face. 

"  There  !  go  to  sleep,  dearie,"  she  told  him.  "  I'll  away 
home  to  my  supper  and  bed,  like  Cap'n  Peters,"  and  five 
minutes  later  she  was  scurrying  down  the  street,  trying  not 
to  worry  any  more  just  then  about  Archie.  Thinking  grate 
fully,  too — while  a  rude  wind  whistled  about  her  ankles, 
and  played  pranks  with  her  petticoats — what  a  good  thing 
it  was  that  Cap'n  Peters  had  promised  to  keep  an  eye  on 
her  father,  and  wondering  whether  the  pair  would  have 
a  chat  that  night,  after  Cap'n  Peters  had  got  something  to 
eat. 

But,  that  night,  Peters  neither  took  anything  to  eat,  nor 
saw  her  father.  He  did  not  even  go  straight  back  to  the 
House  of  Residence.  The  promise  exacted  by  'Melia  had 
been  given  by  him  in  a  very  different  spirit  from  that  in 
which  she  had  asked  it,  and  Peters,  thinking  over  that  and 
other  affairs,  which  were  creeping  to  their  settlement  all  too 
slowly,  felt  himself  getting  beyond  control.  He  would  walk 
it  off,  he  thought,  and  hurried  away  against  the  wind.  But 
he  only  went,  scarcely  conscious,  as  far  as  Drumsheugh 
Gardens,  where  he  passed  and  repassed  No.  45,  attracted, 
time  after  time,  by  the  steady  light  in  Lord  Inch's  study, 
until  at  last  he  remembered  that  there  would  be  danger  in 
drawing  the  attention  of  the  constable  on  the  beat,  and 
returned,  cursing,  to  his  room. 

But  there,  too,  torment  awaited  him.  Before  he  reached 
his  own  door  he  could  hear  Rivers,  snoring  in  the  room 
opposite.  Twice  he  touched  the  handle  of  that  opposite 
door,  and  twice  he  drew  away.  Then  with  a  sudden  effort 


266  MR.   PETERS 

he  tramped  noisily  into  his  own  room,  and,  slamming  the 
door  behind  him,  locked  it  and  threw  the  key,  anywhere, 
so  long  as  it  was  out  of  his  sight. 

He  took  down  the  long-stemmed,  small-bowled  pipe  from 
the  mantel-piece,  and,  filling  it  hurriedly,  began  to  smoke 
even  before  he  drew  a  chair  to  the  fire,  as  though  he  could 
no  longer  live  or  breathe  without  the  drug.  He  knew  it  to 
be  a  dangerous  remedy.  He  knew  that  in  exchange  for 
present  peace  he  would  have  greater  temptation  later,  with 
a  weakened  will  to  withstand  it;  but  the  need  was  urgent, 
and  he  smoked  on  desperately.  Things  might  have  gone 
otherwise  had  he  been  able  to  restrain  himself  that  night. 
Whether  they  would  have  gone  better,  is  another  question. 
He  smoked  on  and  on,  until  his  limbs,  big  as  they  were, 
could  not  have  carried  him  across  the  room.  Yet — either 
because  he  miscalculated  his  dose  or  because  of  a  long  fast 
— although  the  body  seemed  to  sleep,  stretched  out  in  the 
easy-chair  before  a  dying  fire,  the  brain  was  more  active 
than  ever.  Gorgeous  schemes,  stupendous  ideas,  floated 
before  him,  while  no  difficulty  was  imagined  but  what  it 
was  overcome  by  a  single  effort  of  the  tremendous  will  of 
which  he  found  himself  suddenly  possessed.  He  was  the 
autocrat  of  autocrats  that  night.  All  the  earth  was  his  for 
a  footstool,  and  its  inhabitants  were  worms  in  the  dust  be 
fore  him.  The  cold  wintry  dawn  found  Mr.  Peters  shiver 
ing  before  an  empty  grate,  and  promising  himself  that 
never,  at  least  until  he  had  done  all  that  he  came  to  do, 
would  he  be  such  a  weak  fool  again.  But  it  was  too  late. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

VOX,   ET  PK^TEBBA  NIHIL ! 

IT  was  a  gray  morning  that  opened  over  the  gray,  cold 
city.  The  sky  gave  warning  of  snow,  and  the  chill  east 
wind  told  the  same  tale. 

Lord  Inch  felt  the  influence  of  the  weather  as  he  drove 
up  to  the  Parliament  House  that  morning  alone  in  his 
brougham,  meeting  the  day's  work  with  a  face  as  gray  as 
the  sky,  and  as  cold. 

He  thought  of  the  prisoner  who  would  presently  front 
him  in  the  dock,  and  had  a  grim  satisfaction  in  imagining 
that  surely,  on  such  a  day  as  this,  with  winter  just  upon  us, 
it  could  not  be  so  hard  to  hear  that  one  must  die  as  it  would 
be  when  summer  was  felt  through  the  land. 

The  Parliament  House,  too,  was  cold  and  shadowy.  Gas 
glimmered  in  the  corridors  and  in  the  Courts,  with  patches 
of  light  here  and  seas  of  shadow  there,  but  all  cold  and 
hard. 

When  everyone  rose  at  the  macer's  cry,  as  Lord  Inch 
came  in  and  took  his  seat,  some  faces  stood  out  sharply 
denned,  while  others  were  vague  and  blurred,  and  the 
Judge,  peering  into  the  shadows,  presently  found  himself 
wondering  if  his  private  troubles  would  dog  him  in  his 
public  capacitv. 

There  was  no  face  that  he  knew,  save  those  already 
familiar  either  in  connection  with  the  Courts  or  with  this 
particular  case,  and  having  satisfied  himself  of  that,  as  well 
as  the  light  allowed,  Lord  Inch  was  ashamed  at  his  own 
weakness,  and  bent  all  his  attention  to  the  speech  of  the 
prosecuting  counsel.  He  already  understood  that  he  would 


268  MR.    PETERS 

be  able  to  sum  up  a  little  after  mid-day,  and  intended  to 
finish  before  lunch,  lie  felt  that  the  sooner  it  was  over 
the  better  for  all  concerned.  The  verdict  could  be  brought 
in  at  once,  and  then  he  would  go  home  and  try  to  make  up 
for  the  long  hours  of  the  last  few  days,  while  the  prisoner 
there  in  the  dock ! 

The  Solicitor-General  was  driving  nails  into  the  fellow's 
coffin  with  cold  precision.  The  man  himself,  dull  as  he  was, 
seemed  to  feel  it,  and  Lord  Inch  saw  him  breathe  deeply 
and  look  round  as  though  he  felt  Death's  hand  upon  his 
shoulder,  and  found  no  one  to  help  him. 

The  faces  of  the  fifteen  jurymen  hardened,  as  they,  too, 
saw  clearly  what  was  to  be  done,  and  braced  themselves  to 
do  it.  When  the  accuser  sat  down  Lord  Inch  sighed,  partly 
from  relief.  There  would  be  very  little  left  for  him  to  say 
after  that.  Then  he  changed  his  position,  and  faced  the 
counsel  for  the  defence. 

The  latter  did  not  take  very  long.  There  was  no  hope  in 
denying  the  crime.  He  dwelt  upon  the  imagined  provoca 
tion,  upon  the  awful  responsibility  of  condemning  a  fellow- 
man  to  die,  upon  the  weak  barrier,  not  of  their  own  raising, 
which  the  best  of  men  had  sometimes  found  to  be  all  that 
stood  between  them  and  like  crimes.  Let  them  be  merciful, 
he  begged,  as  they  hoped  for  mercy  ;  then  he  sat  down, 
thankful  that  it  was  over,  and  feeling  sure,  from  the  fifteen 
set  faces  opposite,  that  his  words  had  been  useless. 

There  was  a  rustle  and  a  low  hum  through  the  Court,  as 
people  shifted  in  their  seats  and  settled  themselves  to  hear 
Lord  Inch's  summing  up.  While  he  glanced  at  his  notes 
before  addressing  the  jury,  there  was  a  slight  scuffle  in  the 
body  of  the  Court,  caused  by  a  man  forcing  himself  into 
what  he  thought  would  be  a  better  position.  One,  whose 
foot  was  trodden  upon  as  the  fellow  pushed  by,  complained 
loudly,  and  Lord  Inch,  looking  up  with  a  frown,  saw  who  it 
was  that  caused  all  the  commotion.  It  was  Rivers. 


VOX,    ET  PR.'ETEREA   NIHIL!  269 

He  had  fought  into  the  place  he  wanted,  and  sat  facing 
Lord  Inch  with  a  stupid  leer  of  recognition,  in  which  the 
latter  thought  he  saw  an  open  threat.  Had  he  the  foolish 
presumption  to  imagine  that,  by  sitting  there,  forcing  him 
self  into  notice,  as  Lord  Inch  saw  he  did,  he  could  disturb 
a  judge  at  his  work  ?  Did  the  rascal  think  him  so  weak  a 
man  as  that  ?  For  a  few  seconds  they  stared  across  at  one 
another,  Rivers  simply  smiling,  Lord  Inch  pale  with  anger, 
while  those  around  wondered  why  his  lordship  delayed. 
Should  he  order  the  fellow  to  be  turned  out  ?  He  thought 
of  doing  so,  and  then  put  the  idea  aside  as  contemptible. 
The  scoundrel  should  see  how  little  he  could  do  after  all  ; 
and  Lord  Inch  faced  the  jury  again,  and  directed  them  as  to 
their  duty  in  this  matter. 

Men  said,  afterwards,  that  never  had  they  known  the  Just 
Judge  to  be  so  pitiless.  None  of  them  knew  that,  to  the 
man  upon  the  bench,  it  seemed  as  if  he  saw  before  him — 
though  he  never  turned  to  look  at  Rivers  again — a  sneering 
face  which  dared  him  to  do  his  duty.  His  voice  sounded 
solemnly  through  the  hushed  Court,  every  word  falling- 
separately  and  distinctly.  He  pointed  out  the  unfounded 
nature  of  the  jealousy  which  was  the  prisoner's  sole  excuse, 
the  relentless  and  cold-blooded  brutality  with  which  the 
crime  was  accompanied,  the  absence  of  all  sign  of  remorse 
after  it.  He  put  all  suggestions  of  mercy  relentlessly 
aside. 

"  We  are  not  here,"  he  told  them,  "  to  be  merciful,  but  to 
be  just,  acting  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  our  country. 
What  will  follow  upon  your  verdict  must  in  nowise  concern 
you,  provided  that  verdict  is  according  to  your  conscience, 
as  it  undoubtedly  will  be.  Think  of  the  consequences  to 
the  prisoner  at  the  bar  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  needful  to  make 
you  weigh  the  evidence  carefully  and  impartially.  It  is  for 
you,  as  for  everyone  else  concerned  in  this  case,  myself  in 
cluded,  to  do  your  duty,  each  man  with  a  solemn  sense  of  his 


270  MR.   PETERS 

responsible  position,  but  otherwise  careless  of  all  conse 
quences,  whether  to  himself  or  to  another." 

He  turned  for  a  moment  from  the  jury,  and  looked  across 
the  Court  as  though  something  had  disturbed  him,  but  not 
a  soul  there  spoke  or  stirred,  and,  turning  to  the  jury-box 
once  more,  Lord  Inch  for  an  instant  spoke  in  another  strain. 

It  was  their  duty,  he  told  them,  to  give  a  verdict  in  accord 
ance  with  the  facts  which  had  been  so  plainly  laid  before 
them.  But  if,  in  their  opinion,  the  evidence  had  not  been, 
beyond  all  doubt,  satisfactory  and  conclusive,  then  it  was 
equally  their  duty  to  say  so.  There  was,  he  reminded  them, 
a  legitimate  manner  of  expressing  their  doubts.  To  do  so, 
if  doubt  they  had,  was  no  act  of  mercy  ;  it  was  the  merest 
justice.  Let  them  now  retire,  and  consider  their  verdict  as 
it  behoved  men  to  do  who,  all  their  lives,  sat  under  the 
shadow  of  death,  and  knew  not  when  they  themselves  would 
be  called  to  judgment. 

The  jury  filed  away,  and  Lord  Inch,  rising,  passed 
through  one  of  the  doors  behind  him,  and  went  to  his  own 
room,  to  wait  there  until  he  should  be  summoned  to  hear 
the  verdict.  The  trial  had  taken  place  in  the  Justiciary 
Court,  in  which  Donald  Dee  had  shown  the  Judge  to  Lucius 
and  his  party,  and  Lord  Inch,  in  going  away,  passed  through 
the  glass  door  with  the  bull's-eye  through  which  they  had 
watched  him. 

He  never  looked  back  across  the  Court  after  he  had 
summed  up.  He  never  cast  eyes  on  Rivers  again  ;  he  never 
glanced  up  at  the  gallery,  where  a  more  sinister  figure  now 
stood.  If  he  had  looked,  it  would  have  made  no  difference, 
for  it  was  Mr.  Peters  who  stood  frowning  down  upon  him, 
and  Lord  Inch  knew  nothing  of  Mr.  Peters.  So  he  passed 
away  to  his  room,  and  sat  before  the  fire  trying  to  prepare 
himself  for  what  must  presently  be  done,  while  his  clerk, 
who  thought  there  never  had  been  and  never  would  be  such 
another  man,  hovered  a  little  in  the  background,  fearful  of 


VOX,    ET  PR.CTEREA   NIHIL!  271 

disturbing  his  lordship's  thoughts,  but  very  anxious  to  know 
whether  lie  would  not  take  some  of  the  specially  prepared 
soup,  sent  up  from  the  house  by  Dr.  Maitland's  direction. 

But  Lord  Inch,  when  he  saw  what  was  offered,  waved  it 
aside  angrily,  and  then  apologized. 

"  Presently,  perhaps,  when  this  business  is  over,"  he  told 
his  clerk.  "  It  is  good  of  you  to  think  of  it,  Macintosh  ;  and 
you  must  not  notice  my  ways  to-day.  It  is  a  sad  business, 
but  they  won't  be  long  over  it,  and  no  more  will  I." 

The  other  drew  back,  watching  secretly  from  the  other 
end  of  the  little  room,  and  careful  not  to  distract  his  lord 
ship  further  from  the  solemn  words  which,  he  did  not 
doubt,  were  being  considered. 

But  his  lordship  was  not  thinking  of  any  such  thing. 
His  thoughts  had  turned  to  Eivers,  and  his  reappearance  in 
Court,  with  his  probable  or  possible  intentions  in  coming. 
Would  he  make  any  further  disturbance  there  ?  If  so,  he 
should  have  no  further  forbearance  shown  him,  come  what 
might. 

The  train  of  thought  concerning  the  fellow,  this  black 
guard  who  called  himself  an  Oxford  man,  went  on  uncon 
sciously,  stirring  long  dormant  cells  maybe,  and  at  least 
rousing  old  memories.  How  it  was  Lord  Inch  did  not  know, 
but  suddenly  he  remembered  the  man  !  The  whole  scene 
came  up  again.  He  saw  the  prisoner  with  Buncombe — now 
Rivers — at  his  side.  He  saw  the  judge  in  the  blaze  of  the 
smoking  pine-knots,  sitting  with  his  rifle  across  his  knees 
as  he  pointed  up  to  a  dangling  rope.  He  heard  the  trivial 
yet  haunting  song  of  the  doomed  man  as  he  laughed  with  his 
face  to  the  moon,  and  a  moment  later  he  saw  the  thing — 
that  had  been  a  man — twist  and  swing  in  the  moonlight. 

Then  he  heard  the  bell  ring,  intimating  that  the  jury  had 
decided  on  their  verdict,  and,  rising,  he  made  his  way  into 
the  Court  again. 

Meanwhile  Eivers,  who  had  come  with  no  definite  inten- 


272  MR.    PETERS 

tion  except  to  annoy  his  victim,  no  longer  wished  to  do  so. 
The  proceedings  of  the  last  half-hour  had  sobered  him,  and 
Lord  Inch  had  frightened  him  badly.  Not  only  was  he  con 
scious  how  small  his  power  was  over  that  stern,  cold  figure 
on  the  bench,  but  he  felt,  as  he  had  never  felt  before,  that 
the  Law  wanted  him,  and  that  any  move  of  his  which  drove 
Lord  Inch  to  search  into  his  history,  might  end  in  his  stand 
ing  before  the  Judge,  charged  with  the  crime  that  was  be  ing- 
considered  now.  He  was  so  tormented  with  this  idea,  that 
he  felt  as  if  branded  in  the  face,  and,  rather  than  meet  Lord 
Inch's  eye  again,  would  have  left  the  Court,  but  those  whom 
he  had  annoyed  in  passing  would  not  let  him  move  again, 
and  Rivers  sat  with  his  head  bent,  wishing  for  the  end  of  the 
scene. 

What  had  passed  had  quite  a  different  effect  upon  Peters, 
looking  down  from  the  gallery. 

The  effects  of  his  night's  drugging  had  not  yet  worn  off, 
and  he  had  chuckled  audibly,  to  the  scandal  of  the  man  next 
him,  as  Lord  Inch  summed  up.  Then,  when  the  jury  re 
tired,  he  stood  and  brooded  contemptuously  over  the  whole 
thing.  Was  this  justice,  that  a  man  with  such  a  past  as  Lord 
Inch's  should  sit  and  judge  and  sentence  other  men  ?  The 
more  he  thought  over  it,  the  more  absurd  it  seemed.  It  was 
so  absurd  that  he  felt  Lord  Inch  must  see  it,  and  that  every 
one  else  would  if  he  told  them.  Then  they  would  put  his 
lordship,  in  his  solemn  wig  and  great  robes  with  the  big  red 
crosses,  into  the  dock,  and  perhaps  they  would  put  the 
prisoner  on  the  bench,  to  judge  him. 

Just  then  the  jury  came  back,  and  then — through  one  of 
the  two  doors  with  the  bull's-eye  windows,  which  Peters 
recognized — came  Lord  Inch,  and  passed,  gray-faced  and 
solemn,  to  his  seat. 

Then  a  great  anger  came  upon  the  man  in  the  gallery. 
If  he  stayed  there  he  must  shout,  and  there  would  be  trouble 
and  interference  with  his  business. 


VOX,   ET  PR^ETEREA  NIHIL !  273 

He  turned,  and  forced  his  way  out  through  the  dozen  or 
so  of  people  between  him  and  the  door,  who  paid  no  atten 
tion,  for  the  foreman  of  the  jury  was  giving  the  verdict. 

It  was  "  Guilty,"  and  the  strain  was  nearly  at  an  end  now. 
A  moment  later  Lord  Inch,  with  a  face  that  grew  grayer  and 
grayer  as  he  spoke,  told  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  what  would 
follow.  He  would  he  taken  from  that  place  to  another,  and 
on  such  and  such  a  day  he  would  be  hanged  by  the  neck  un 
til  he  was  dead,  and  might  God  have  mercy  upon  his  soul. 

Every  word  was  distinct,  but  the  voice  sank  and  sank, 
lower  and  lower,  to  the  end,  so  that,  at  the  last,  attention 
was  strained  to  the  uttermost,  and  the  slightest  sound  was 
heard. 

It  was  then  that  a  curious  thing  happened. 

As  one  of  the  newspaper  reporters  hurried  away  with  the 
verdict,  and  swung  open  a  small  side  door,  there  came  from 
the  corridor  the  sound  of  a  song.  No  man  afterwards  could 
say  that  he  recognized  it,  and  elsewhere  it  would  have  been 
unnoticed.  It  jarred  here,  and  there  might  have  been 
trouble,  but  that  something'  else  happened  which  made  the 
noise  be  entirely  forgotten.  Lord  Inch  was  seen  to  be  ill. 

He  rose  from  his  seat,  gasping,  and  stared  across  the 
Court.  Rivers,  knowing  that  song,  shivering,  caught  his 
glance  of  agonized  wonder.  Then  Lord  Inch  staggered  back 
and  out  at  the  door,  disappearing  from  sight  altogether. 

When  the  general  public,  pushing  and  scrambling  from 
their  seats,  found  the  way  to  the  back  of  the  Court,  they 
also  found  it  blocked  by  the  police. 

His  lordship  was  ill,  they  were  told.  But  in  truth  his 
lordship  was  already  lying  dead  in  his  own  little  room,  still 
in  his  robes,  with  the  great  red  crosses  lying  straightened 
over  his  breast. 

His  clerk  and  the  macers,  when  they  hurried  across  the 
dais  after  him  from  the  Court,  had  found  someone  there 
before  them.  A  foreign  gentleman,  who  afterwards  gave 


274  MR.   PETERS 

his  name  as  Peters,  was  kneeling  at  his  lordship's  side,  in 
the  corridor,  doing  all  he  could  to  revive  him. 

He  was  trying  to  find  his  way  out  of  the  Parliament 
House,  he  explained  later,  when  a  door  opened,  and  his 
lordship  fell  at  his  feet. 

When  the  others  came  up,  Mr.  Peters  was  bending  over 
the  Judge,  apparently  asking  what  ailed  him,  and  trying  to 
catch  his  last  words  ;  but  they  arrived  only  to  see  Lord 
Inch  die,  obviously  in  great  distress. 


"HIS   CLKKKS   FOUND   PETEHS   AT   HIS   SIDE   TKYINd    TO   KEVIVK    HIM 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

AFTER-EFFECTS 

LORD  INCH  left  the  Parliament  House  for  the  last  time 
that  night,  carried  thence  to  Drumsheugh  Gardens  in  a 
hearse  that  bore  a  snowy  pall  before  it  reached  his  door. 
For  the  snow  that  had  threatened  in  the  morning  had  fallen 
all  through  the  afternoon,  and  still  drifted  down,  making 
all  the  streets  white  and  silent  for  his  last  home-coming. 
Archie  and  Maitland  waited  for  the  body  together,  and 
talked  together  afterwards  in  Lord  Inch's  study,  until  far 
on  towards  morning. 

Besides  his  wish  to  pay  every  respect  to  his  old  friend, 
and  to  help  Archie  in  his  loneliness,  Maitland  was  anxious 
to  know  whether  Archie  had  been  told  anything  of  his 
father's  troubles.  He  discovered  easily  that  Lord  Inch  had 
said  nothing,  and  decided  to  say  nothing  himself,  at  anyrate 
for  the  time.  It  would  be  so  easy  to  speak  at  any  moment, 
and  the  words  would  be  so  irrevocable  that  it  was  better  to 
watch  and  wait.  He  had  heard  nothing  of  the  song  that 
heralded  Lord  Inch's  death  ;  he  knew  nothing  of  Rivers' 
presence  in  the  Court,  and  it  was  perfectly  natural  for  him 
to  certify  that  Lord  Inch's  death  was  consequent  upon  a 
long-standing  disease,  aggravated  by  the  day's  excitement. 

So  he  sat  with  Archie,  talking  in  a  gentle,  fatherly  way 
that  surprised  the  young  master  of  the  house,  while  Lord 
Inch,  past  the  reach  of  blackmailers,  slept,  let  us  hope,  more 
soundly  than  ever  before. 

If,  going  softly  through  the  snow-silenced  streets,  one 
had  turned  to  the  House  of  Residence,  and  looked  for 
Rivers,  one  would  have  found  things  less  peaceful. 


276  MR.    PETERS 

For  he,  gasping  at  the  sound  of  that  snatch  of  trivial  song, 
which  he  would  barely  have  remembered,  but  for  its  effect 
upon  the  man  he  hunted,  had  fought  his  way  out  of  the 
Court  with  the  rest,  and  had  waited — had  been  forced  to 
wait — until  he  knew  what  the  end  was,  although  he  loitered 
with,  every  now  and  then,  a  backward  glance,  dreading  that 
presently  he  should  hear  that  song  again,  close  at  his  ear, 
or  that  in  some  other  way  he  should  feel  that  the  avenger 
was  upon  him. 

All  around  him  they  talked  of  nothing  but  the  sudden 
illness,  until  a  whisper  came,  and  spread,  and  became  an 
outspoken  certainty,  that  Lord  Inch  was  a  dead  man.  But 
no  one  connected  the  trouble  with  that  foolish  noise.  That 
had  been  forgotten  in  what  followed,  as  Rivers  found,  when 
he  plucked  up  courage  to  speak  with  one  or  two  of  those 
who  seemed  least  likely  to  have  been  the  unseen  singer.  By 
the  time  that  the  death  was  a  certainty,  Rivers,  finding  that 
his  persistent  references  to  that  song  drew  attention  upon 
himself,  stopped  talking,  and  went  hurriedly  away  home. 

What  should  he  do,  and  where  was  he  safe  ?  Lord  Inch 
had  known  nothing,  he  was  sure,  of  this  voice,  until  it  struck 
him  down.  He,  Rivers,  might  know  nothing  more  until 
his  turn  came  for  punishment,  and — when,  where,  and  in 
what  form  would  punishment  come  ? 

The  average  Briton,  being  aggrieved  or  injured,  or  fear 
ing  an  injury,  appeals  to  the  police,  if  his  grievance  be  not 
such  as  he  can  air  in  the  daily  papers.  But  Rivers  had  to 
bear  his  trouble  alone.  He  could  not  complain  about  a  song. 
Why  should  the  verse  of  a  serenade,  sung  in  a  foreign 
language — and  not  unmusically— be  as  significant  of  death 
as  any  funeral  march  ?  He  would  have  to  answer  that,  if 
he  wished  for  protection.  The  answer  might  cause  trouble, 
and  would  certainly  attract  notice.  Then  too,  though  lie 
had  not  dreaded  an  exposure  as  had  Lord  Inch,  being  in  a 
tougher  condition,  and  having  no  reputation  to  lose,  he  felt 


AFTER-EFFECTS  277 

more  than  ever  that  he  was  an  outcast,  who  had  best  not 
claim  any  protection  from  the  law.  There  was  still  the 
London  affair  to  account  for.  If  he  called  in  the  Law  to 
protect  him,  it  might  also  detect  him.  Better  to  hear  a 
song,  mean  what  it  would,  than  hear  a  sentence  of  death, 
as  he  had  heard  it  that  day. 

So  the  man  sat  in  his  own  room  that  night,  and  shivered 
and  drank,  and  shivered  and  drank  again,  and  not  even  the 
knowledge  that  he  had  locked  the  door  behind  him,  could 
prevent  him  from  looking  over  his  shoulder  at  every  sound, 
and  indeed  at  every  silence. 

A  certain  amount  of  liquor  raised  his  courage,  or,  more 
correctly,  numbed  his  fear,  for  he  had  no  courage  to  raise, 
and  he  crept  across  the  passage  to  seek  the  comfort  of  the 
society  of  Mr.  Peters.  For  Peters  was  big,  and  strong,  and 
imperturbable,  apparently,  and  sitting  opposite  to  him  one 
woiild  be  able  to  sip  away  without  having  first  to  look 
behind. 

But  Peters'  door  was  locked,  and  no  answer  came.  It 
was  cold  there  in  the  passage.  So  Rivers  went  back  to  his 
own  room.  Besides  turning  the  key,  he  dragged  a  table 
across  against  the  door,  and  against  the  table  he  tilted  a 
chair,  so  that  a  push  would  make  it  go  over.  Then  he 
undressed,  and,  after  turning  down  the  light,  looked  out 
quietly  to  see  whether  anyone  haunted  the  House  of  Resi 
dence,  as  he  had  haunted  Drumsheugh  Gardens.  But  the 
white  streets  were  quiet  and  empty.  To  add  to  Rivers'  com 
fort,  he  presently  saw  a  policeman,  strolling  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street,  and  he  fell  into  drunken  sleep,  wondering 
whether  it  would  attract  too  much  attention  if  he  gave  that 
man  a  modest  tip  to  keep  a  special  eye  upon  the  House  of 
Residence. 

Mr.  Peters,  too,  had  come  to  his  rooms  after  having  been 
examined  by  the  authorities,  and  locking  his  door  also, 
though  he  was  afraid  of  nothing  either  alive  or  dead,  he 


278  MR.  PETERS 

sat  motionless  in  his  favorite  chair  before  the  fire,  and 
thought  over  his  own  foolishness.  One  after  another,  he 
recalled  his  mistakes  and  self-indulgences,  until,  at  the 
thought  of  twenty-five  years  of  patient  waiting,  plotting, 
working,  and  suffering,  wasted  at  the  mad  impulse  of  a 
moment,  great  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks.  Anyone  com 
ing  in,  and  knowing  what  had  happened  that  day,  would 
have  pitied  Mr.  Peters,  thinking  he  possessed  a  more  tender 
heart  than  most  of  his  fellow-men  ;  he  cried  bitterly,  how 
ever,  not  at  Lord  Inch's  death,  but  at  the  manner  of  it. 

When  at  last  he  rose  from  his  chair,  it  was  to  get  the 
long-stemmed,  small-bowled  pipe,  with  its  fuel.  He  snapped 
the  stem  with  a  turn  of  the  wrist,  and  tossed  pipe  and  all 
into  the  fire.  They  made  a  fine  blaze  of  heavy-perfumed, 
high-reaching  flames,  and  Mr.  Peters,  watching  until  noth 
ing  was  left,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  turned  away  with 
an  altered  air,  as  though  he  had  made  a  bonfire  of  regrets, 
along  with  the  rest. 

Whether  this  was  so  or  not,  at  least  there  were  no  more 
tears  then,  or  at  any  other  time.  He,  too,  went  to  bed, 
pausing  in  his  undressing  only  for  a  moment,  when  Rivers 
came  to  the  door.  Then  he  went  towards  the  door,  silent, 
and  bent  as  a  tiger  crouching  for  a  spring,  but  the  door 
remained  shut.  Rivers  went  back,  and  Mr.  Peters,  putting 
away  all  thought  of  yesterday,  to-day,  or  to-morrow,  slent 
like  a  child. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

MR.  PETERS  MAKES  MORE  MOVES  THAN  ONE 

THE  affairs  of  the  world,  even  those  of  the  Parliament 
House,  went  on  after  the  death  of  the  Just  Judge  ;  nor  was 
anyone  absolutely  inconsolable.  Why  should  it  be  other 
wise  ?  Archie,  considerably  sobered  down,  and  with  Dr. 
Maitland  for  his  guardian,  could  not  sorrow  eternally  for 
a  man  who  had  never  been  his  familiar  friend.  But  he 
showed  an  honest  intention  of  being  no  disgrace  to  his 
name,  as  far  as  work  was  concerned,  and  went  about  his 
studies  conscientiously,  in  spite  of  a  distraction,  a  torment 
ing,  aggravating,  tantalizing  distraction,  in  the  shape  of 
'Melia. 

For  'Melia,  with  very  mixed  feelings,  and  from  very 
mixed  motives,  was  not  seizing  her  golden  opportunity,  and, 
point-blank,  refused  to  consider  Archie's  suit  seriously. 

"  Boys  shouldn't  be  so  foolish,"  she  told  him  with  a  re 
proving  air.  "  You're  old  enough  to  have  more  sense,  Mr. 
Inch,"  and  would  not  listen  to  Archie's  meek  suggestion 
that  this  was  rather  contradictory.  "  I  b'lieve  you're  talk 
ing  like  that  because  you  think  you  must,"  she  added  once. 
"  I've  told  you,  over  and  over,  that  I've  forgotten  that  fool 
ishness  of  yours."  By  which  further  contradictory  state 
ment,  'Melia  wished  to  intimate  that  she  attached  no  impor 
tance  to  the  stolen  kiss. 

She  cried  over  Lord  Inch's  note,  inclosing  a  check  for 
those  boxes  of  cigars  which  still  lay  untouched  in  the  study, 
and  later  on  showed  it  to  Archie,  but  refused  to  say  what 
they  had  discussed  together.  Archie  argued  with  her  over 


280  MR.    PETERS 

his  father's  probable  feeling  in  the  matter  of  his  proposal, 
but  they  never  came  to  any  agreement.  The  one  thing 
neither  of  them  ever  did  was  to  ask  Rivers  what  had  been 
the  outcome  of  his  interview  with  Lord  Inch.  Each  felt 
that  this  matter  lay  entirely  between  themselves,  and  both 
of  them,  had  they  been  perfectly  frank,  would  have  had 
to  acknowledge  that  they  would  not  be  prepared  to  pay 
any  attention  to  Rivers'  interference.  Neither  Rivers  nor 
Peters  was  so  much  about  the  shop  now,  but  one  day  Mr. 
Peters  went  down  to  Leith  again,  and  called  on  Moriarty. 

Business  was  still  doing  "  most  terrible  "  well  with  Lu 
cius.  Even  the  tobacconist's  shop  began  to  show  signs  of 
coming  prosperity,  thanks  to  Nell's  careful  consideration 
of  its  possibilities,  and  also  to  'Melia's  pleasant  ways  with 
the  customers.  Nell  was  considering  the  question  of  add 
ing  good  coffee  and  the  daily  papers  to  its  attractions,  even 
a  magazine  or  two,  if  the  thing  went  well,  and  threw  out 
occasional  hints  of  the  advantage  of  larger  premises. 

But  latterly  Lucius  had  felt,  more  than  ever,  the  hollow- 
ness  of  mere  worldly  prosperity,  and  the  need  for  cultivat 
ing  other  than  business  interests.  His  mind  was  lingering 
fondly  over  that  old  dream  of  a  little  farm,  where  he  could 
breed  honest  beef  and  mutton,  to  the  accompaniment  of 
pastoral  poetry.  His  thoughts  were  on  this  and  kindred 
matters  when  Peters  was  announced. 

"  How  are  ye  ?  how  are  ye  ?  my  Christian  friend  !  "  said 
Lucius,  rising  from  his  desk  precipitately  to  shake  hands. 
"  Where  have  ye  been  this  long  time,  Mr.  Peters  ?  " 

"  Going  about  my  business,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  sat 
down  upon  the  chair  pointed  out  by  Lucius. 

"  Well,  well  !  "  Lucius  told  him,  "  it's  business  takes  the 
pleasure  out  of  life,  isn't  it  ?  You're  not  in  such  good  fettle 
as  when  you  came  to  Edinburgh.  You're  losing  weight, 
I'll  wager,"  he  added,  after  a  critical  inspection.  "  What 
ails  ye,  man  ?  " 


ME.    PETERS   MAKES  MORE  MOVES   THAN   ONE        281 

Then,  as  a  sudden  fear  caught  him,  "  Y'  aren't  in  the 
lawyers'  grips  ?  " 

But  Peters  shook  his  head  at  that.  "  No,"  he  said,  qui 
etly.  "  I  keep  clear." 

"  That's  well,"  Lucius  told  him,  emphatically.  "  Come 
down  here,  an'  drop  your  money  into  the  harbor  first. 
'  Cast  thy  bread ' — you  know.  It  might  return  to  you— 
after  many  days,  at  a  low  tide,  or  with  the  dredger  maybe, 
but  up  there —  -"  and  Lucius  shook  his  head  emphatically, 
to  show  what  his  experience  had  been  "  up  there."  "  I'd 
have  looked  ye  up  before  now,  if  things  hadn't  been  as  they 
are,"  he  went  on,  nodding  his  head  at  the  papers  before  him. 

"  I  should  have  been  happy,"  said  Peters,  politely. 

"  Not  at  all  !  "  said  Lucius,  not  as  a  contradiction,  but  as 
a  conventional  courtesy.  "  Your  landlady's  a  monstrous 
fine  woman,  Mr.  Peters  ;  and  I  reckon  your  friends  are  her 
friends,  from  the  way  she  made  me  welcome  last  time  I 
looked  you  up.  It's  my  belief  you're  a  sly  dog,  Mr.  Peters, 
for  all  you're  so  quiet.  Are  ye  thinking  of  settlin'  down 
here,  eh  ?  " 

No,  Mr.  Peters  was  not  thinking  of  settling  down  there, 
and  said  so. 

"  That  reminds  me,"  Lucius  told  him,  one  thing  suggest 
ing  another,  "  there's  another  good-looking  lady,  a  young 
'un  too,  been  inquiring  after  you  twice.  It's  '  When  did 
you  sec  Mr.  Peters,  Mr.  Moriarty  ? '  and  '  Has  Mr.  Peters 
gone  away  that  I  don't  ee  him  here  now  ? '  Who'll  that 
be,  eh  ?  " 

"  Miss  Murray,"  Peters  suggested,  apparently  not  par 
ticularly  impressed  by  the  news,  and  Lucius  stared  at  him. 

"  You're  an  icicle  !  "  he  insisted,  "  or  we'll  say  an  iceberg, 
because  of  the  size  of  you.  Is  there  never  a  warm  heart 
outside  Old  Ireland  ?  Faith,  I  begin  to  think  it.  Why,  the 
boys  of  me  time  would  have  broken  heads,  everyone  of 
'em,  for  a  smile  from  the  likes  o'  her  !  " 


282  MR.    PETERS 

"  I  am  not  a  boy,"  Peters  suggested. 

"  Maybe  that's  true,"  Lucius  admitted.  "  We're  boys  till 
we  die  in  Old  Ireland.  But  anyway,  you're  not  looking  so 
well  as  you  were.  Maybe  it's  a  change  you're  wanting  ?  " 

"  I  want  more  air,"  said  Peters,  "  and  so  I  want  money." 

"  They  sell  air  compressed  nowadays,  don't  they  ? " 
chuckled  Lucius.  "  Will  ye  order  it  in  like  beer  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  where  there  is  more  of  it,"  Peters  told  him, 
rising  and  filling  his  chest  with  a  deep  breath,  as  if  he  were 
stifled. 

"  Ay  !    Where  ?  "  asked  Lucius,  interested. 

"  On  your  hills,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  sitting  down  again. 
"  From  here  and  there,  in  this  city,  one  sees  your  hills. 
From  a  high  window,  or  a  street  corner.  '  They  are  the 
Pentlands,'  your  people  say,  when  one  asks,  but  not  many 
of  them  can  say  much  more." 

"  I've  not  been  there  meself  for  years,"  Lucius  admitted, 
regretfully. 

"  Very  well,  then,  I  have  been,"  Peters  told  him,  "  and  I 
go  again.  There  is  air,  fresh,  and  plenty  of  it,  up  there." 

"  Plenty,"  Lucius  agreed,  "  and  nothing  to  pay." 

"  I  have  taken,  what  you  call  rented,  an  empty  cottage," 
Peters  explained. 

"  I  see.  Rent  payable  in  advance,"  Lucius  supposed. 
"  You'll  be  wanting  a  matter  of  fifteen  or  twenty  pounds 
then,  what  with  furniture  and  so  on  ?  " 

"  Two  hundred,"  Peters  told  him,  and  Lucius,  who  had 
taken  out  his  check-book,  dropped  his  pen  in  horror. 

"  What  blaggard  has  been  havin'  ye  ?  "  he  demanded. 
"  Two  hundred  pounds,  for  a  bit  of  an  empty  cottage  on  a 
hillside  !  Why  didn't  ye  come  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  told  you  that  it  is  all  for  that,"  Mr.  Peters  re 
minded  him.  "  I  have  my  expenses  here,  and,  besides, 
on  account  of  my  business,  there  have  been  expenses  in 
London." 


MR.    PETERS  MAKES  MORE  MOVES  THAN   ONE         283 

"  Are  ye  chucking  away  money  there  too,  that  ye  may 
have  the  pleasure  o'  payin'  your  father's  old  debts  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  thrown  away,"  Peters  told  him,  "  I  have  got 
the  value  of  my  money." 

"  Well,  a  man's  money  is  his  own,  I  suppose,"  Lucius 
grumbled,  filling  up  a  check  as  he  spoke,  and  then  touching 
his  bell.  "  I'd  like  to  know  what  you  call  value  for  it 
though.  I  don't  fancy  we'd  agree  on  that  point." 

"  That  is  true,"  Peters  agreed,  but  offered  no  explana 
tion,  and  Lucius,  giving  the  matter  up  in  disgust,  relieved 
his  feelings  by  a  short  homily  to  the  junior  clerk. 

"  It's  from  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  three  hundred  yards 
to  the  bank,"  he  told  the  boy  as  he  handed  him  the  check. 
"  Maybe,  to-day,  you'll  oblige  me  by  tryin'  the  nearest  way 
for  a  change  ;  and  that's  not  by  way  of  the  docks,  and  you 
don't  go  up  by  Leith  Walk  either.  I  give  ye  twenty  min 
utes.  If  ye  don't !  " 

He  never  finished  the  sentence,  for  the  clerk,  on  hearing 
the  time-limit,  had  taken  to  his  heels,  and  Lucius  was  left, 
staring  alternately  at  Mr.  Peters  and  at  the  door,  which  his 
flying  messenger  had  banged  behind  him. 

"  There's  manners  !  "  he  observed.  "  And  his  mother  as 
decent  a  woman  as  ever  told  me  a  pitiful  story  in  this  room, 
an'  it  fair  groans  with  'em,  bein'  a  shippin'  business,  and 
all  one's  people  one's  friends." 

"  You  are  busy,"  Peters  told  him.  "Continue  ;  here  is  a 
paper  that  I  will  read." 

"Not  you,"  Lucius  insisted,  "you'll  talk  with  me. 
You're  on  me  conscience." 

Mr.  Peters  looked,  first  frowning,  then  raising  his  eye 
brows,  but  Lucius  was  undaunted. 

"  Ay,  you're  on  me  conscience,"  he  repeated,  "  an'  you 
may  frown  away  till  I've  done.  D'ye  know  how  much 
money  there'll  be  left  after  this  two  hundred  goes  ?  " 

"  About  a  hundred,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  "  and  the  bag." 


284  MR.  PETERS 

"  And  the  bag,"  Lucius  agreed,  nodding  towards  the  safe. 
"  It's  there,  since  you  said  you  might  want  it  in  a  hurry. 
Contents  unknown,  but  money  in  some  quantity,  from  the 
feel  of  it.  Still !" 

"  Still  ?  "  repeated  Mr.  Peters,  whose  face  had  grown 
smooth  and  unmoved  again. 

"  Well,  if  you  don't  look  lively,"  Lucius  answered,  mak 
ing  a  plunge,  "  I'm  thinkin'  all  the  cash  may  go  to  the  pre 
liminaries,  and  so  forth,  and  none  be  left  for  a  settlement. 
I  could  be  your  father,  for  age,  and  your  friend  Bergen  is 
my  friend.  Come,  now  !  can  I  help  ye  to  settle  up  ?  After 
that,  go  ducks  and  drakes  with  the  remainder,  an'  welcome. 
But  don't  go  and  spend  it  all  in  askin'  this,  an'  askin'  that, 
and  findin'  this  man,  and  findin'  that,  just  to  tell  'em  your 
money's  all  gone  in  the  searching  for  'em,  when  all's  said 
an'  done.  It's  they  ought  to  spend  their  money  in  findin' 
you — not  t'other  way  round  !  " 

"  They  would  not,"  Peters  said.  "  They  do  not  know, 
and  my  way  is  best.  Things  shall  go  well  now." 

"  That's  done  with,  then,"  Lucius  decided,  and  they 
spoke  of  it  no  more,  but  chatted  away  about  public  affairs, 
until  the  clerk  rushed  in,  breathless,  and  with  an  aggrieved 
air  plainly  showing  that  he  knew  whom  he  would  consider 
responsible  if  any  ill  happened  to  him  after  his  hurried 
errand. 

Then  Peters  shook  hands  with  Moriarty,  and,  going 
straight  back  to  the  House  of  Residence,  wrote  a  letter  and 
enclosed  four  five-pound  notes,  directing  to  Mr.  Domenico 
Selli,  No.  -  -  Wardour  Street,  London.  The  letter  was  in 
Italian,  and  ran,  roughly,  as  follows: — 

"  MY  DEAR  COUSIN, — 

Business  here  goes  slowly,  and  cannot  be  pushed.  Any 
rash  speculation  would  perhaps  be  fatal,  as  once  before. 
I  invest  in  house  property,  and  look  for  a  return,  but  I  am 


MB.    PETERS  MAKES   MORE  MOVES  THAN  ONE         285 

no  more  in  haste.  I  have  had  my  lesson.  Your  informa 
tion  and  the  paper  received  are  invaluable.  Eesistance  is 
crippled  thereby,  and  appeal  to  arbitration  made  impos 
sible,  which  is  what  I  desire.  I  remit  the  money,  which  can 
ill  be  spared,  but  is  most  well-spent." 

Mr.  Peters  took  this  business-like  epistle  to  the  post-office, 
and  registered  it.  Then  he  went  to  his  room,  and  sat  think 
ing.  In  his  hand  was  a  London  daily  paper  of  some  years 
back,  which,  with  a  letter,  had  reached  him  that  morning. 

A  paragraph  in  it  was  marked  lightly  in  pencil.  He 
rubbed  the  mark  out  carefully,  and  sat  thinking  again. 
Then  he  put  a  heavy  cross  in  another  part  of  the  news 
summary,  lower  down,  where  the  loss  of  a  ship  was  an 
nounced,  and  tossed  the  paper  carelessly  on  the  table,  beside 
that  day's  Scotsman. 

After  that,  he  looked  across  the  passage  and  saw  that 
Rivers'  door  was  open,  therefore  that  Rivers  was  out.  Then 
Mr.  Peters  sat  down  by  his  own  fire,  it  being  within,  perhaps, 
three-quarters  of  an  hour  from  dinner-time,  and,  with  a 
lighted  lamp  upon  the  table  and  drawn  curtains,  began  to 
play  Patience.  As  he  played,  he  smoked,  but  there  was  no 
more  to  be  seen  of  the  small-bowled  pipe,  and  Mr.  Peters 
smoked  nothing  but  Dream  Mixture  cigarettes,  bought 
from  'Melia. 

Lucius  had  been  quite  right  in  saying  that  Mr.  Peters  was 
not  in  such  good  "  fettle  "  as  when  he  came  to  Edinburgh. 
There  was  often  a  tired  look  about  his  eyes.  His  face  was 
not  quite  so  smooth  and  round.  Still,  he  looked  easily 
good-tempered  and  imperturbable,  as  he  played,  and  he  was, 
to  all  appearance,  comfortable  and  contented  enough  when 
Rivers  came  along  the  passage,  went  into  his  own  room,  and 
presently,  coming  out  again,  knocked  at  Peters'  door. 

"  Enter  !  "  said  Mr.  Peters,  dealing  another  card,  and  his 
neighbor  entered  accordingly. 


286  MR.   PETERS 

Rivers  was  recovering  his  spirits  to  a  great  extent,  and 
showed  it.  His  hat  was  on,  glossy,  and  tipped  a  little  to 
one  side.  When  Rivers  was  in  good  spirits  it  seemed  very 
difficult  to  part  him  from  his  hat.  He  would  wear  it  coming 
up  the  stair,  on  returning  from  a  stroll,  and  forget  to  take 
it  off  for  some  minutes  after,  if  he  happened  to  look  in  upon 
Mr.  Peters.  He  began  to  doubt  his  recollection  of  the 
scene  at  the  Parliament  House.  Nothing  had  happened 
since  to  frighten  him,  and  his  own  aifairs  prospered  exceed 
ingly.  He  doubted  whether  his  ears  had  not  played  him 
false  as  to  the  song.  He  had  been  drinking  heavily  at  that 
time — his  imagination  was  excited  by  his  surroundings — 
one  tune  sounds  very  like  another  at  times — and  so  on. 

At  anyrate,  he  was  in  luck  just  now,  and  luck,  backed  up 
by  manual  dexterity,  and  a  fat,  good-natured  pigeon  eager 
to  be  plucked,  must  be  pursued. 

"  Well  !  "  he  asked,  sitting  down  in  the  opposite  easy- 
chair,  "  are  we  ready  for  revenge  ?  Have  we  the  rhino  ?  " 

"  I  am  ready,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him.  "  I  have  more 
money." 

"  'Tis  well  ! "  said  Rivers,  twisting  his  glossy  mustache, 
glossier  and  blacker  than  ever,  with  a  melodramatic  air. 
"  R-r-revenge  is  sweet.  To-night  ?  " 

"  If  you  will,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him. 

"  Oh,  you  shall  have  your  opportunity,"  Rivers  declared. 
"  Luck  must  turn  soon,  you  know." 

"  I  think  it  will,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  his  visitor,  still 
twisting  the  mustache  to  a  most  military  point,  smiled 
behind  his  hand. 

"  I  must  win,"  continued  Mr.  Peters,  with  one  eye  on  his 
game  and  the  other  on  Rivers,  "  before  all  your  money 
goes." 

"  What  d'ye  mean  ?  " 

"  You  have  told  me  of  money  invested  in  the  States,  is 
it  not  so  ?  " 


MR.    PETERS   MAKES   MORE   MOVES  THAN   ONE         287 

"  A  trifle,  yes,  that  is  so,"  Elvers  acknowledged.  "  Not 
much  perhaps,  but  something  to  a  poor  man." 

"  The  papers  say  there  is  trouble  between  the  two  coun 
tries,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  leaning  across  lazily  to  the  larger 
table,  without  rising,  he  picked  up  the  nearest  paper,  and 
handed  it  to  Rivers. 

"  Somewhere  in  the  small  notices,"  he  suggested,  and 
Rivers,  although  he  had  not  the  remotest  pecuniary  interest 
in  the  relations  of  Great  Britain  and  the  States,  looked  down 
the  column. 

"  It  would  be  a  bad  job  for  me  and  my  little  Em'ly,"  he 
announced,  "  though  I  hope  she'll  be  provided  for  soon," 
and  then  he  became  very  still  and  said  nothing,  for  quite 
another  bit  of  news  had  caught  his  eye. 
— "  The  man  who  is  wanted  in  connection  with  the  murder 
in  the  tap-room  of  the  '  Flowing  Bowl '  will,  it  is  believed, 
be  speedily  in  the  hands  of  the  authorities,  reliable  infor 
mation  having  been  received  as  to  his  identity  and  where 
abouts." — 

Mr.  Peters  continued  to  deal  his  cards,  putting  them 
down  rather  noisily  upon  the  little  table  before  him,  but  he 
was  not  looking  at  his  game.  He  was  quietly  watching 
Rivers. 

"  Do  you  not  find  it  ?  "  he  asked  presently,  but  had  to 
repeat  the  question  before  he  got  any  answer. 

"  Not  yet,"  Rivers  said  at  last,  and,  sitting  back  in  the 
chair,  with  the  paper  close  to  his  eyes,  seemed  to  search  on 
unsuccessfully. 

Mr.  Peters  played  away  for  a  few  minutes  longer,  and 
then  said,  "  Let  me  find  it."  He  took  the  paper,  Rivers 
muttering  that  his  eyes  were  not  so  good  as  they  used  to  be, 
and  that  he  must  really  get  glasses. 

But  Peters  seemed  to  look,  and  then  burst  out  laughing. 
"  T  do  not  wonder,"  he  said,  "  that  you  cannot  find  it.  It  is 
not  your  eyes,  my  best  Rivers.  The  news  is  not  there. 


288  MR.   PETERS 

You  are  looking  in  a  paper  many  years  old.  Did  you  not 
see  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  notice,"  Kivers  admitted.  He  was  leaning  back 
in  his  chair,  and  the  mustache  was  trembling  as  he  an 
swered. 

"  It  will  be  in  this,"  Peters  went  on,  reaching  out  for  the 
Scotsman  upon  the  table.  "  Here  it  is  !  " 

He  found  the  paragraph,  pointed  it  out,  and  handed  the 
paper  to  Rivers,  who  sat  and  studied  it  intently,  but  said 
nothing. 

"  What  think  you  of  it  ?  "  demanded  Peters,  who  had 
gone  back  to  his  game. 

"  Bad,  very  bad  !  "  Rivers  told  him.  "  My  poor  little 
Em'ly.  It  gives  me  quite  a  turn.  Have  you  just  the  least 
drop  of  something,  handy  ?  I'm  getting  an  old  man,  Cap 
tain  Peters,  and  I  can't  afford  to  lose  money." 

Peters  got  something  for  him,  and  Rivers  took  it  with  a 
hand  that  still  trembled. 

"  I  like  to  see  the  London  paper  sometimes,"  he  told 
Peters  presently.  "  It's  not  worth  while  going  to  the  li 
brary,  if  you  have  it  in  the  place.  Do  you  take  it  in  regu 
larly  ?  " 

"  No."  Mr.  Peters  took  up  the  old  London  paper,  and 
sought  for  a  paragraph  in  it.  "  It  is  my  family  business," 
he  explained.  "  It  is  believed  that  a  relative  of  mine  was 
drowned  in  this  ship,"  and  he  showed  Rivers  the  paragraph 
already  marked  in  pencil. 

Rivers  studied  it  carefully,  and  drank  again. 

"  After  all,"  Mr.  Peters  suggested,  "  we  know  what  these 
newspapers  are.  It  is  probably  not  true  about  these 
troubles.  It  will  be  told  otherwise  to-morrow." 

"  That  is  so,"  Rivers  agreed,  draining  his  glass.  "  It  is 
of  no  use  to  be  frightened  at  these  things.  It  is  a  father's 
foolishness,  my  dear  Peters.  Let  me  see,  it's  almost  dinner 
time,  isn't  it  ?  " 


MR.    PETERS  MAKES  MORE  MOVES  THAN   ONE        289 

"  In  ten  minutes,"  said  Mr.  Peters.  "  Shall  I  have  my 
revenge  after  dinner,  and  here  ?  " 

"  Excellent  !  "  Elvers  agreed,  cheering  up  very  much. 
"  A  good  fire,  and  a  comfortable  chair,  a  friend  to  profit  if 
you  lose,  and  a  glass  to  console  you.  That  is  what  I  call 
comfort." 

He  rose  to  go,  evidently  relieved  about  our  foreign  rela 
tions. 

"  By  the  by,"  he  told  Mr.  Peters,  "  I  saw  my  little 
Em'ly  this  afternoon.  She  tells  me  that  she  has  seen  very 
little  of  you  lately." 

"  It  is  true,"  Mr.  Peters  admitted.  "  I  have  had  my 
business  to  attend  to,  in  the  day.  Our  evenings  we  have 
spent  together  of  late,  have  we  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes.  Better  luck  to-night  perhaps.  It's  as  bad 
always  to  win  as  always  to  lose,  Captain  Peters." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  Mr.  Peters  asked,  simply.  "  Ah  !  but  I  shall 
have  my  turn." 

"  Oh,  surely,"  Eivers  agreed,  "  and  how  does  your  busi 
ness  go  on  ?  " 

"  Slowly,"  Peters  told  him,  "  but  I  expect  to  finish  soon, 
very  soon,  now." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Rivers,  looking  at  him  as  if  this  in 
terested  him  very  much,  "  and  then  you  will  go  away  ?  " 

"  Then  I  shall  say  good-by,  and  go  away." 

"  I  must  give  you  plenty  of  opportunity  to  win  back  your 
money,"  said  Rivers,  with  a  regretful  air. 

"  Or  to  lose  some  more  ?  "  Mr.  Peters  suggested,  but 
Rivers  objected  to  this  way  of  putting  it. 

"  No,  no.  Luck  will  turn,"  he  insisted,  and  just  then  the 
dinner-bell  rang,  and  he  went  off  to  go  through  the  very 
necessary  ordeal  of  washing  his  hands,  which  he  did  with 
not  much  superfluous  soap  and  water,  but  with  many  smiles. 

"  I  shall  lose  to-night,"  he  told  his  reflection  in  the  look 
ing-glass.  "  I'm  as  sure  of  it,  as  that  I  stand  here,"  but 

19 


290  MR.  PETERS 

this  foreboding  did  not  appear  to  damp  his  spirits,  and 
he  joined  the  party  in  the  dining-room  without  a  sigh. 

He  entertained  himself,  if  not  Mrs.  Jimps,  that  evening, 
by  recollections  of  his  Alma  Mater.  Mr.  Elvers  had 
moved  in  the  wittiest,  richest,  wickedest,  most  brilliant  set 
of  his  college,  so  he  gave  Mrs.  Jimps  to  understand.  Of 
the  wickedness,  of  course,  he  could  not  give  details  to  a 
lady,  and  wit  is  so  like  champagne  that  he  was  quite  right 
not  to  repeat  jokes  which  had  been  uncorked,  so  to  speak, 
so  many  years  ago.  If  Mrs.  Jimps  did  not  appreciate 
Rivers'  anecdotes  so  highly  as  he  did,  she  at  anyrate  smiled 
occasionally,  and,  sometimes,  quite  in  the  right  place. 
Many  of  her  obliging  sex  do  no  more,  and  rank  as  sympa 
thetic  for  doing  so  much.  Eivers  did  not  know  that,  behind 
the  attentive  manner  and  the  smile,  thoughts  came  and 
went  in  Mrs.  Jimps'  business-like  brain  which  were  con 
cerning  himself,  and  were  not  so  complimentary  as  he 
would  have  expected. 

Mrs.  Jimps  had  her  suspicions  of  Rivers,  and  these  had 
been  considerably  strengthened,  quite  lately,  by  hints  from 
the  kitchen.  Mrs.  Jimps  thought  it  permissible,  a  thing 
that  must  be  endured,  when  a  Paying  Guest,  having  met 
agreeable  companions,  came  home  once  in  a  way  slightly 
the  worse  for  liquor,  or  roused  suspicion  by  want  of  appe 
tite  at  the  breakfast-table.  But,  if  Annie  were  to  be  believed, 
steady  drinking,  steady  and  solitary  drinking,  had  gone  on 
lately  in  Mr.  Rivers'  room,  until,  just  a  few  nights  ago,  mat 
ters  became  even  worse.  Rivers  had  migrated  to  Peters' 
room,  and  if  Mrs.  Jimps  could  believe  her  ears,  applied 
in  quite  a  friendly  spirit  to  Captain  Peters'  keyhole  when 
going  her  nightly  round.  Rivers  now  spent  his  evenings 
in  drinking  Captain  Peters'  whiskey,  and  winning  his 
money. 

"  It  would  be  the  ruin  of  the  place  if  it  was  known," 
she  said  to  herself,  smiling  at  the  same  time  because  Rivers 


MR.    PETERS  MAKES  MORE  MOVES  THAN   ONE         291 

had  just  laughed,  and  therefore  must  have  said  something 
which  he  thought  funny. 

"  It  will  be  the  ruin  of  poor  Captain  Peters,  if  it  goes  on," 
she  decided,  as  Kivers  launched  forth  upon  another  personal 
anecdote.  "  I  wonder  whether  he'd  be  very  angry  if  I  spoke 
of  it  ?  " 

She  looked  down  the  table  at  Mr.  Peters,  who  still  had 
the  place  of  honor  at  the  other  end,  and  acknowledged  to 
herself  that  she  did  not  like  the  idea  of  interfering.  Finally 
she  made  up  her  mind  to  wait  one  night  more. 

"  I  didn't  think  Captain  Peters  would  be  so  foolish,"  she 
acknowledged  later,  unburdening  herself  for  once  to  the 
faithful  Annie,  who  'as  usual  was  her  companion  on  the 
nightly  round. 

"  They're  all  the  same  in  the  end,  I  think,  Mrs.  Jimps. 
Fools  to  each  other,  and  villains  to  we  poor  women,"  Annie 
told  her  gloomily,  with  a  sigh  for  the  dashing  dragoon,  who 
had  left  Piershill  for  foreign  parts. 

"  I  really  will  speak  to  Captain  Peters  to-morrow,  if  he 
goes  on  losing  more  money,"  said  Mrs.  Jimps.  "  He  sha'n't 
ruin  himself  in  my  house,  to  please  anyone.  Hush  now, 
Annie,  and  mind  those  squeaky  shoes  of  yours." 

They  had  reached  Captain  Peters'  door,  and  Mrs.  Jimps 
put  an  ear  to  the  keyhole.  It  was  now  half  an  hour  after 
midnight.  Mrs.  Jimps  had  made  her  visit  much  later  than 
usual,  Annie  having  told  her  that  the  sittings  lasted  until 
half-past  twelve  or  one. 

Mrs.  Jimps  listened,  and  Annie  tried  to  gather  informa 
tion  from  her  upturned  face. 

Three  minutes  Mrs.  Jimps  listened,  then  started  sud 
denly,  and  fled  more  swiftly  than  she  was  accustomed  to 
move  on  her  own  premises,  followed  hot- foot  by  Annie. 

They  were  only  just  in  time.  Peters'  door  opened  as 
they  reached  the  flat  below,  and  Rivers  spoke. 

"  I  told  you  how  it  would  be,"  they  heard  him  say,  be- 


292  MR.    PETERS 

tween  one  door  and  the  other.  "  Luck  must  change.  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  you  had  a  run  of  it,  now."  Then  he 
went  into  his  own  room,  and  they  heard  no  more. 

Mrs.  Jimps  looked  at  Annie  and  smiled. 

"  Captain  Peters  has  won  some  of  his  money  back,"  she 
explained.  "  That's  what  that  means,  Annie.  It's  a  wicked 
amusement,  and  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  and  don't 
want  to.  But  if,  as  that  man  says,  the  luck  has  changed, 
why,  Mr.  Peters  will  very  likely  get  some  more,  and  I  won't 
stand  between  him  and  what  belongs  to  him.  I  sha'n't  say 
anything  yet,  at  anyrate.  Good-night,  Annie.  Be  sure 
you're  up  in  good  time,  and,  if  you  come  to  me  after  break 
fast,  I'll  give  you  that  silk  underskirt  that  I  had  turned  last 
year.  I've  been  meaning  you  to  have  it,  for  a  long  time." 


CHAPTER   XL 

THE  TROUBLES  OF   MADGE   MURRAY  AND  MRS.   JIMP8 

CHRISTMAS  was  now  drawing  near  ;  the  days  were  short 
and  gray  ;  more  snow  had  fallen,  and  could  be  seen  from 
the  city  lying  upon  the  Pentland  Hills  ;  but  Mr.  Peters 
went  up  the  slopes  more  than  once,  to  make  sure  that  the 
little  furniture  he  needed  was  safely  delivered,  and  arranged 
in  his  cottage. 

Mrs.  Jimps  was  much  troubled  when  he  told  her  of  his 
new  quarters,  and  recovered  her  spirits  only  when  she  heard 
that,  for  the  present  at  anyrate,  he  intended  to  keep  on  his 
rooms  in  the  House  of  Residence. 

"  I  shall  be  delighted,  Captain  Peters,"  she  told  him, 
"  and  we  will  arrange  for  a  little  reduction  on  the  rent  when 
you  are  away.  I  do  hope  you  will  be  well  taken  care  of,  up 
there  in  the  cold  ?  " 

"  A  woman  is  coming  from  the  nearest  house,"  Peters 
explained,  "  to  clean  the  rooms.  I  will  do  most  for  myself. 
One  cannot  always  have  a  Mrs.  Jimps  to  take  care  of  one." 

Ah  !  if  he  only  knew  how  easily  One  might  have  a  Mrs. 
Jimps  to  take  care  of  him.  Mrs.  Jimps  felt  this,  but,  being 
trammelled  by  the  conventionalities,  did  not  say  so. 

"  We  must  take  special  care  of  you  when  you  are  in  town, 
Captain  Peters,"  was  her  rejoinder.  "  Are  you  sure  that 
you  have  plenty  of  warm  bedding  ?  " 

"  Plenty  !  "  Peters  assured  her.  "  Often,  too,  T  shall 
sleep  here.  You  will  keep  my  rooms  quite  as  usual." 

"  I  will  see  to  it  myself,"  declared  Mrs.  Jimps.  "  and  you 
will  keep  your  key,  Captain  Peters,  so  that  you  can  come  in 
at  any  time.  You  may  be  sure,  whenever  you  do,  that  you 


294  MR.   PETERS 

will  find  your  bed  aired,  and  the  fire  ready  laid,  so  that  you 
need  only  put  a  match  to  it.  And  if  you  happen  to  want 
anything  in  the  way  of  a  meal,  when  you  do  come  in,  please 
come  to  me.  The  rules  of  the  House  of  Eesidence  can  be 
stretched,  for  friends,  Captain  Peters." 

Mere  creature  comforts  these,  which  Mrs.  Jimps  laid  so 
much  stress  upon,  but  her  intention  was  as  kindly  as  if  she 
had  offered  Mr.  Peters  higher  things.  He  seemed  properly 
to  appreciate  the  intention.  He  laughed,  not  unkindly — 
Mr.  Peters  had  not  laughed  much  of  late  ;  then  he  bent, 
and,  kissing  Mrs.  Jimps'  plump  hand,  set  her  blushing  furi 
ously. 

"  Captain  Peters  !  " 

"  Pardon  a  foreigner,"  he  entreated.  "  It  is  a  foreign 
fashion,  Mrs.  Jimps.  You  are  kind,  and  I  forget.  It  shall 
not  happen  again." 

Nor  did  it.  Mrs.  Jimps,  now  on  her  guard  against  such 
liberties,  and  determined,  of  course,  to  allow  no  more,  had 
no  further  cause  for  complaint,  and  yet  seemed  no  happier. 
Nor  did  she  hear  Captain  Peters  laugh  again,  in  the  pleasant 
way  with  which  he  had  met  her  hospitable  assurances. 

Now,  though  he  had  entered  on  the  possession  of  his 
house  on  the  Pentlands,  he  still  came  and  went  almost  every 
day.  Perhaps  it  was  his  business  that  brought  him  in  so 
often,  perhaps  it  was  the  recollection  of  his  promise  to 
'Melia,  that  he  would  keep  an  eye  upon  her  father.  Once 
or  twice,  when  he  spent  a  night  in  town,  Eivers  visited  his 
room,  and  won  or  lost  a  few  pounds  over  the  cards.  But 
Peters  declared  that  he  found  the  nights  pleasantest  upon 
the  hills,  and  Eivers  began  to  wonder  how  he  could  continue 
those  delightful  evenings  which  had  been  so  regularly  prof 
itable  a  short  while  ago. 

"  'Ow  d'you  live  up  there  ?  "  'Melia  asked  Peters  one  day 
when  he  looked  in  for  tobacco  to  take  back  with  him. 

"  I  smoke." 


MADGE  MURRAY   AND   MRS.    JIMPS  295 

"  You're  a  funny  man,  Cap'n  Peters,"  'Melia  declared. 
"  You  could  smoke  anywhere  else,  just  as  well." 

"  There  is  no  room,"  he  told  her,  gravely.  "  I  smell  the 
smoke  of  one  hundred  other  men,  when  I  smoke  in  this 
place.  Then  I  cannot  move.  I  stretch  myself,  and  see  ! 
something  is  spoilt." 

He  stretched  himself,  with  a  hand  extended  far  on  either 
side  of  him,  and  swept  a  box  of  cigars  from  a  shelf. 

"  You're  a  funny  one  !  "  'Melia  repeated,  going  down  on 
her  knees  to  pick  up  the  cigars.  "  You  needn't  have  done 
that.  I'd  take  your  word  for  it.  What  sort  of  a  place  is 
yours  ?  " 

"  Two  rooms  only,"  Peters  told  her,  "  and  small.  There 
is  little  in  them,  but  still  I  cannot  stretch  there.  It  is  on 
the  outside  that  I  find  room." 

"  What's  that  like  ?  "  asked  'Melia,  laying  on  the  counter 
a  damaged  cigar,  which  she  meant  Peters  to  pay  for  pres 
ently,  and  then  resting  on  her  elbows,  her  pretty  chin  be 
tween  her  hands. 

"  Behind  is  the  hill-side,"  said  Peters,  "  and  the  fir-trees, 
that  whisper  all  the  night,  when  there  is  wind.  I  walk  by 
them,  under  the  stars,  when  I  cannot  sleep,  and  they  tell  me 
all  sorts  of  things,  and  send  me  back  sleepy  to  my  bed." 

"  That's  pretty,"  'Melia  allowed.  "  I  didn't  know  you 
were  that  sort.  Go  on,  Cap'n  Peters.  What's  in  front  ?  " 

Peters,  upon  the  leather-covered  seat  against  the  wall, 
leant  his  head  back,  and  his  hat  tilted  forward  over  his 
eyes. 

"  In  front,"  he  told  her,  "  the  hill  falls  and  falls  away, 
until  it  reaches  the  water.  That  is  frozen  now.  There  will 
be  skating  in  a  few  days." 

"  What  besides  ?  " 

"  There  are  the  rabbits,  and  the  grouse,"  Peters  went  on, 
"  and  sometimes,  by  night,  I  hear  the  wild  duck  going  over 
me,  or  perhaps  a  goose  sometimes  ;  I  do  not  know." 


2'JG  Mil.    PETERS 

"  Do  they  chatter  like  the  trees  ?  "  'Mclia  asked.  "  I 
s'pose,  if  they  do,  they  say  '  cook  me  ! ' : 

Mr.  Peters  didn't  laugh.  He  seemed  not  to  be  thinking 
so  very  much  of  'Melia,  and  answered  quite  softly  and  sol 
emnly. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  they  do  not  say  '  cook  me.'  In  the  snow, 
the  rabbits  and  the  grouse  tell  one  another  that  life  is  a 
hard  thing,  and  that  everyone  must  fight  for  himself.  But 
the  geese : 

"  Yes  ?  "  said  'Melia,  "  I've  heard  they're  not  such  fools 
as  they  look.  What  do  they  say  ?  " 

"  They  cry  down  to  me,"  Peters  told  her,  "  that  I  am  a 
slow  fool,  a  silly  stupid,  a  dull  fellow.  They  tell  me  of  the 
places  where  I  met  them  before.  Then  they  call  that  I 
must  make  haste  to  finish  my  work  and  come  away,  and  be 
free  once  more  like  they  are." 

"  And  what  do  you  say  ?  "  'Melia  wanted  to  know. 

"  I  tell  them  patience,  and  that  a  fool,  to  be  sure,  must 
go  slowly." 

He  rose  now,  and  picked  up  his  packet  of  tobacco. 

"  I  must  go,"  he  said.  "  It  will  snow  again  to-night,  and 
then  I  might  lose  myself." 

"  This  cigar's  your's,"  'Melia  told  him.  "  See  how  you've 
spoilt  it.  Fourpence  please,  and  you'd  best  wait  till  you 
get  to  your  cottage  before  you  stretch  again,  or  it  may  come 
more  expensive,  Cap'n  Peters.  Now  I'd  like  to  see  that 
place  o'  yours." 

"  Well,"  Peters  suggested,  "  so  would  your  father.  Make 
him  bring  you.  I  have  already  told  him  to  come,  if  he 
likes." 

"  I'll  talk  to  him,"  'Melia  promised,  and  then  remembered 
something  else  to  speak  of. 

"  You  know  that  time  when  you  came  along  here,  with  a 
lady,"  she  asked  him,  "  an'  left  her  to  come  in  here  ?  " 

Peters  couldn't  remember  for  the  moment,  and  said  so. 


MADGE   MURRAY   AND   MRS.   JIMPS  297 

"  A  tall,  dark  lady.  She  was  dressed  in  blue  and  red. 
Looks  like  this  !  "  and  'Melia,  drawing  herself  up,  threw  her 
head  back  a  little,  and  surveyed  him  superciliously  from 
under  drooping  lids. 

"  Yes,"  Peters  told  her,  "  I  remember  now.  What  of 
her  ?  " 

"  Friend  o'  yours  ?  "  asked  'Melia. 

Mr.  Peters  shrugged  his  shoulders.    "  Go  on  !  "  he  said. 

"  Oh,  she's  a  customer  o'  mine,  that's  all,"  'Melia  told 
him.  "  If  she  smokes  all  she  buys,  she's  a  Wunner,  Cap'n 
Peters." 

"  Perhaps  she  does  not,"  Peters  suggested. 

"  That's  what  I  say,"  'Melia  agreed,  and  seemed  on 
the  point  of  saying  more,  but  apparently  changed  her 
mind. 

"  Well,  it's  going  to  snow,  as  you  thought,"  she  told  him, 
"  and  you  don't  want  to  be  found  froze  in  a  ditch.  Good 
night  !  "  and  Peters,  wishing  her  good-night  in  return,  went 
away. 

Half  an  hour  later,  Madge  Murray  came  in  the  dusk,  and 
asked  for  cigarettes,  with  a  patronizing  air  that  would  prob 
ably  have  got  scant  courtesy  in  return  but  for  'Melia's  axiom 
that  business  came  before  personal  feeling. 

"  Has  Mr.  Peters  been  here  lately  ?  "  Madge  asked  care 
lessly,  as  she  turned  to  go. 

"  This  very  afternoon,"  'Melia  told  her,  "  for  half  an 
hour.  He  uses  up  his  cigarettes  a'most  as  soon  as  you, 
Miss.  Could  I  tell  him  anything  for  you,  when  I  see 
him  ?" 

"  "N"o,  it's  just  that  I  want  to  give  him  a  book  he  lent  me," 
her  customer  explained.  "  I'm  afraid  he'll  go  away  without 
getting  it.  Half  an  hour,  you  say  ?  He's  very  particular 
over  his  cigarettes  ?  " 

"  Oli,  that  doesn't  take  a  minute,"  'Melia  assured  her, 
calmly.  "  I  always  know  just  what  he  wants.  But  me  an' 


298  MR.   PETERS 

Cap'n  Peters  are  old  friends.  We've  always  a  lot  to  talk 
about." 

"  That's  very  kind  of  him.  I  hope  he  means  all  he  says 
to  you,"  the  other  remarked,  and  sailed  out  forthwith. 

'Melia,  to  relieve  her  mind  when  the  shop  was  empty, 
came  round  the  end  of  the  counter,  and  burlesqued  Miss 
Murray's  departure,  as  far  as  the  door. 

"  Spitfire  !  "  she  announced,  to  no  one  in  particular,  and, 
after  watching  the  stray  flakes  of  snow  for  a  minute  or  two, 
she  made  herself  a  cup  of  tea,  and  settled  down  as  usual 
over  a  book  ;  but,  as  usual,  too,  nowadays,  she  got  on 
slowly.  There  were  so  many  things  to  wonder  over.  There 
was  Archie  first  always.  'Melia  couldn't  rid  herself  of  the 
idea  that  Archie  was  pressing  his  suit,  partly — at  anyrate — 
because  he  was  being  pressed.  She  had  not  spoken  to 
Rivers  about  it,  but  that  was  her  feeling,  and  nothing  that 
Archie  could  say  would  rid  her  of  it  altogether.  Rivers 
had  cunning  enough  not  to  discuss  the  thing  with  her. 
His  hints  about  the  pleasure  it  would  give  him,  to  see  her 
quietly  settled  down,  with  a  house  in  which  her  poor  old 
father  might  some  time  find  a  corner  when  he  felt  near  his 
end,  were  too  vague  to  quarrel  over,  but  quite  enough  to 
worry  'Melia.  Rivers  was,  nevertheless,  her  father,  and 
'Melia  was  ready  to  defend  him  against  all  the  world,  but 
she  had  very  few  illusions  left  concerning  him,  and  could 
not  persuade  herself,  as  she  could  once  have  done,  that 
Archie  would  be  pleased,  or  honored,  in  having  such  a 
father-in-law.  Leave  him  she  would  not.  Inflict  him  upon 
Archie  she  could  not,  and  poor  'Melia,  torn  both  ways  by 
these  contradictory  feelings,  had  of  late,  in  trying  to  be  just 
to  both,  been  none  too  sweet-tempered  with  either. 

"  You're  the  best  of  'em,"  she  often  assured  her  silent 
friend  "  Sandy."  "  You're  the  only  one  I  can  have  about 
me  for  very  long  without  wishing  you  out  o'  this,  anyway." 

If  it  had  not  been  for  her  doubts  about  her  father,  'Melia 


MADGE   MURRAY   AND  MRS.   JIMPS  299 

would  probably  have  consulted  Nell.  But  the  hours  at 
which  Nell  came  were  not  those  at  which  Eivers  usually 
made  an  appearance.  Nell  had  never  met  him,  and  'Melia 
had  not  felt  bound  to  mention  him,  much  less  to  discuss 
her  troubles  concerning  him  with  anyone. 


CHAPTER  XLI 

CANDIDUM   SORACTE 

THE  next  Sunday,  the  ground  being  white  with  a  thin 
covering  of  snow,  'Melia  and  her  father  went  across  the  hills, 
by  invitation  from  Mr.  Peters,  to  see  him  in  his  new  quar 
ters. 

There  was  not  much  talking  by  the  way.  'Melia  had 
learnt  that  there  were  not  many  things  which  her  father 
cared  for  which  were  of  any  interest  to  her  ;  also,  that  any 
chat,  however  it  might  begin,  was  apt  to  end  in  hints  from 
Rivers  that  he  was  getting  impatient  over  her  unnecessary 
delay  in  providing  a  comfortable  home  for  both  of  them. 

She  went  along  the  slopes,  after  they  reached  the  open 
hill-side,  looking  on  the  thin,  powdery  sheet  of  snow  for 
foot-prints  of  birds  and  beasts,  drawing  deep  breaths  as  she 
went,  and  wondering  why  she  had  never  ventured  before 
into  this  quiet,  white  fairyland. 

Once  she  told  her  father  to  look  at  the  rabbits,  scuttling 
to  their  burrows,  and  at  a  hawk,  hanging  against  the  blue- 
gray  sky,  ready  for  a  swoop  ;  but  Rivers  was  unresponsive. 
He  thought  the  white  country-side  cold  and  dull,  and  won 
dered,  as  he  went,  why  on  earth  he  had  been  persuaded  to 
bring  'Melia  ;  he  wondered,  too,  whether,  with  her  there, 
he  would  get  any  chance  of  a  game  at  cards,  to  keep  him 
comfortably  in  pocket  money  until  'Melia  should  make  up 
her  mind  to  stop  playing  the  fool,  and  take  young  Inch  and 
his  money  while  she  could  get  them.  All  this  fuss  and 
bother,  he  was  sure,  only  arose  from  some  silly  girlish  af 
fectation,  and  he  began  to  feel  that,  if  separated  much 


CANDIDUM  SORACTE  301 

longer  from  his  dear  friend  Captain  Peters,  and  conse 
quently  from  his  dear  friend's  purse,  he  would  have  to 
speak  plainly,  and  teach  'Melia  her  duty. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Peters,  sitting  at  the  top  of  the  brae,  his 
big  chin  propped  on  the  palm  of  his  hand,  looked  down  like 
another  hawk  over  the  valley,  and  watched  the  coming  of 
his  guests.  He  would  have  preferred,  vastly,  to  entertain 
Rivers  alone,  but  there  was  no  hurry  to  do  that.  Mr.  Peters 
had  sworn  that  never  again  in  this  world  would  he  press 
matters  or  run  any  risk  of  seeming  to  guide  anyone's  move 
ments.  He  sat  careless  of  the  three  or  four  degrees  of  frost, 
watching  these  two  figures  gradually  grow  more  distinct, 
and  was  quite  the  hospitable  entertainer  when  'Melia  caught 
sight  of  him,  and,  waving  her  handkerchief,  pushed  up  the 
hill  before  her  father. 

"  This  is  grand,  Cap'n  Peters,"  she  panted,  when  within 
speaking  distance.  "  My  !  to  think — o'  the  times — I  spent 
in  my  bed — lazy  good-for-nothing — when  I  might  have 
been  here  ! " 

Peters,  watching  her  father  come  up  behind  her,  did  not 
pay  much  attention,  but  'Melia  was  too  happy  to  care. 

"  You're  right  !  "  she  told  him,  still  panting,  "  you  can 
stretch  here,"  and  with  that  she  plumped  down  on  some 
heather,  from  which  she  beat  the  snow,  and,  leaning  back 
with  her  shoulders  against  a  bank,  stretched  out  her  arms  as 
if  to  embrace  the  Pentlands  as  a  whole. 

A  cock-grouse,  seeing  that  there  was  no  gun  among  the 
party,  called  from  a  bare  knoll  some  fifty  yards  away,  and 
'Melia  watched  him,  enchanted,  then  turned  to  look  at  a 
big  hare,  that  went  with  little  hops  across  the  frozen  loch 
beneath  them. 

"  Better'n  Princes  Street,"  she  pronounced.  "  I  never 
saw  that  chap  before — 'cept  at  the  poulterer's,"  and  then, 
getting  up,  walked  behind  the  two  men,  looking  about  her, 
and  taking  very  little  share  in  the  conversation,  as  they 


302  MR.    TETERS 

followed  the  narrow  footpath  that  wound  away  between  the 
hills. 

At  the  edge  of  the  whispering  Scotch  firs,  silent  now  in 
the  still,  frosty  daylight,  they  came  upon  the  cottage  that 
Mr.  Peters  had  described  to  'Melia. 

It  stood  quite  alone,  a  thin  line  of  smoke,  unstirred  by 
any  wind,  mounting  straight  from  its  chimney. 

Down  from  the  door  the  ground  sloped  away,  thickly 
covered  with  heather  and  coarse  grasses,  until  it  fell  to  the 
shores  of  another  little  loch,  Glencorse  Reservoir,  in  the  hol 
low  of  the  hills,  and  here  'Melia  stood  and  looked  about  her, 
more  interested  in  the  outside  than  the  inside  of  the  cottage, 
for  the  time,  and  not  very  willing  to  move. 

"  Come,"  Peters  told  her,  "  the  good  Eivers  is  hungry  it 
seems,  and  something  is  ready  for  you  to  eat,  and  you  can 
see  this  again  after." 

So  'Melia  went  in,  and  at  once  became  amused  by  the 
household  arrangements. 

Over  the  fire  stood  a  big  pot,  and  from  it  came  an  entic 
ing  odor,  as  Mr.  Peters  lifted  the  lid  and  peered  in. 

"  My  !  you  know  what's  good,"  'Melia  told  him,  sniffing 
the  air.  "  What's  in  that  thing,  Cap'n  Peters  ?  " 

"  A  little  of  all  things.  It  is  a  stew,  into  which  I  have 
emptied  my  larder.  Go  away,  and  put  your  hat  in  the  other 
room,  my  bedroom.  Then  dinner  will  be  ready  here,  in 
this,  the  dining-room  and  kitchen." 

So  'Melia  went  off,  and  was  interested  in  the  simplicity  of 
his  sleeping  arrangements. 

A  narrow  mattress  upon  an  iron  bedstead,  a  little  mirror 
near  the  window,  a  lamp,  and  a  few  books  in  a  foreign 
language — this  was  nearly  all  that  the  room  held. 

When  she  went  back  to  the  kitchen,  or  dining-room,  the 
table  was  laid,  but  laid  only  for  two,  and  'Melia  commented, 
as  usual,  frankly. 

"  Who's  odd  man  out  ?  "  she  asked.    "  If  you'd  told  me, 


CANDID  UM  SORACTE  303 

I'd  have  brought  something  to  make  up,  Cap'n  Peters. 
Isn't  there  enough  ?  " 

"  Some  grouse,  some  hare,  some  rabbit,  some  vegetables 
and  potatoes,"  Mr.  Peters  told  her,  "  yes,  there  is  enough." 

"  Well,  then,"  'Melia  demanded,  "  what's  wrong  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  eat  now,"  he  explained,  "  not  until  night." 

"  It'll  be  dull  work  watching,  won't  it  ?  "  she  asked,  but 
Mr.  Peters  assured  her  that  it  would  not  be  so,  and  'Melia 
tried  not  to  feel  offended,  and  chatted  as  they  ate,  while 
Kivers  paid  no  attention  at  all,  being  occupied  with  dinner 
and  his  own  thoughts,  which  began  to  suggest  more  golden 
possibilities. 

It  was  a  kind  of  faint  shadow  of  old  custom,  superstition, 
what  you  will,  that  held  Peters  back  that  afternoon,  and 
kept  him  fasting.  Rivers  was — Eivers,  or  rather,  Bun 
combe  ;  and,  in  his  host's  opinion,  had  no  claim  upon  the 
laws  of  hospitality.  But  with  'Melia  it  was  different. 

True,  she  was  her  father's  child,  and  he  looked  constantly, 
indeed  eagerly,  to  see  her  prove  it,  in  some  such  way  as 
should  let  him  think  of  the  two  as  one.  But  'Melia  was 
rather  her  mother's  child,  and  her  father  had  had  decent 
people  as  ancestors.  The  two  were  not  one,  could  not  be 
thought  of,  or  treated,  as  one  ;  and  Mr.  Peters,  prepared 
to  go  very  far  in  the  transaction  of  his  business,  yet  drew 
the  line,  oddly  enough,  at  the  trivial  point  of  eating  in  his 
own  house  with  a  girl  who  knew  so  little  of  him  and  of  his 
thoughts  as  'Melia  did,  and  who  yet  trusted  him  so  much. 

So,  father  and  daughter  ate  by  themselves,  and  Peters 
talked  away  so  readily  about  one  thing  and  another  that 
'Melia,  though  she  was  strangely  vexed  at  his  fasting,  in 
time  almost  forgot  that. 

"  Well,  we've  left  some  for  your  supper,  anyway,"  she  told 
him,  when  they  had  ended  the  meal.  "  Where  you  get  these 
nice  things  from,  up  here,  I  can't  tell." 

"  They  are  at  my  door,"  said  Mr.  Peters  calmly,  lighting 


304  MR.   PETERS 

the  cigarette,  which  he  had  been  twisting  in  his  fingers, 
when  he  saw  they  had  finished. 

"  What  !  "  'Melia  had  never  thought  of  that.  "  You 
don't  mean  to  say  you  catch  'em  ?  " 

Mr.  Peters  nodded.    "  Why  not  ?  " 

"  That's  poaching,  isn't  it  ?  "  asked  'Melia,  wide-eyed. 

"  I  believe  so,"  Mr.  Peters  allowed.    "  What  then  ?  " 

"  You're  breaking  the  laws  of  the  country  !  " 

"  Not  my  laws,  nor  my  country,"  he  told  her,  with  a  sort 
of  contempt.  "  Look  at  your  laws.  Poof  !  "  and  blowing  a 
little  cloud  of  smoke,  he  waved  it  away  with  his  open  hand. 
"  That  for  your  laws  !  "  he  told  her.  "  It  is  clearer  without 
them." 

Rivers,  who  had  been  helping  himself  generously  to  Mr. 
Peters'  spirits,  applauded  with  vigor.  "  An  effete  country, 
with  effete  laws,  my  dear  Captain  Peters,"  he  agreed. 
"  That  is  why  I  left  my  Alma  Mater  (did  I  ever  tell  you  ?) 
a  little  sooner  than  was  customary.  Young  blood  has  noth 
ing  in  common  with  picturesque  ruins,  my  dear  sir.  You 
haven't  one  of  those  excellent  cigars  about  you,  have  you  ? 
My  little  Em'ly  has  been  so  carefully  brought  up  that  she 
won't  let  her  father  get  his  cigars  on  tick  !  Well,  well  !  we 
sha'n't  be  there  much  longer,  shall  we,  Em'ly  ? "  and 
Rivers,  chuckling,  winked  knowingly  at  Peters,  who  made 
no  response. 

"  Don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  'Melia,  and,  to  give  the 
conversation  a  turn,  got  up  from  her  chair,  and,  going  to  the 
window,  asked  Mr.  Peters  the  name  of  the  hill  opposite. 

Mr.  Peters  didn't  know  and  didn't  care,  but  the  question 
served  its  purpose,  and  'Melia  began  wandering  about  the 
room,  with  a  notion  of  putting  things  straight.  She  cleared 
the  table  and  went  outside,  leaving  the  men  for  ten  minutes 
or  so,  but  not  going  out  of  sight  of  the  cottage.  Then  she 
came  back,  for  it  was  already  getting  much  colder.  The  two 
men  were  still  talking  and  smoking  by  the  fire.  Perhaps 


CANDIDUM  SORACTE  305 

most  of  the  talking  was  done  by  Elvers,  who  was  speaking 
as  'Melia  came  in. 

"  It  must  be  very  dull  up  here  alone  ?  "  he  suggested. 

Peters  only  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  Rivers  protested 
that  it  must  be. 

"  Though  two,"  he  suggested,  "  to  keep  one  another  com 
pany,  might  be  very  snug." 

Peters,  staring  at  the  fire,  with  his  legs  stretched  out  be 
fore  him,  puffed  away  slowly,  and  said  nothing. 

"  How  do  you  pass  the  time  alone  ?  "  asked  Rivers, 
anxious  for  his  friend's  comfort. 

"  There  is  tobacco,"  Peters  told  him,  after  consideration, 
"  there  are  books,  a  few,  and  there  are  cards.  I  play  alone, 
you  know.  You  have  seen  me." 

"  Ah,  yes.  I  know  your  game,"  and  Rivers  laughed 
rather  condescendingly,  having  never  taken  to  it. 

"  Do  you  ?  "  Mr.  Peters  asked  gravely,  and  then,  as  if 
recollecting  himself,  "  ah  !  I  had  forgotten.  Yes,  you  know 
my  game." 

"  We  are  so  thoughtful,"  said  Rivers,  in  what  he  intended 
to  be  a  light,  bantering  manner,  but  which  had  very  little 
ease  or  carelessness  about  it.  "  We  are  so  thoughtful,  and  so 
retiring,  that,  I  suppose,  we  couldn't  put  up  a  friend  for  a 
night  ? " 

"  I  might,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  "  if  he  asked  me." 

"  If  he  asked  !  "  Rivers'  delicacy  was  shocked  at  the 
notion,  and,  before  he  could  get  over  it,  'Melia  chimed  in. 

"  Go  along,  Cap'n  Peters,"  she  told  him,  "  where'd  you 
put  anybody  ?  " 

"  It  depends,"  Mr.  Peters  said,  after  consideration,  "  upon 
who  was  the  body." 

"  You've  only  one  bed,"  'Melia  insisted,  "  I've  been  in 
there,  you  know,"  jerking  her  head  towards  the  other  room. 

"Oh,  I  could  make  another,"  Mr.  Peters  told  her,  and 
then  stopped  talking  suddenly,  struck  by  'Melia's  occupa- 

30 


806  MR.   PETERS 

tion,  just  when,  for  conversation's  sake,  she  was  beginning 
to  discuss  the  point  further. 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ?  "  he  asked,  harshly. 

"  Me  ?  I'm  just  putting  a  stitch  in  this  for  you,"  'Melia 
answered,  rather  surprised  at  his  manner,  and  held  up  for 
inspection  a  torn  flannel  shirt,  which  she  had  found  lying 
about,  and  had  begun  to  darn. 

To  her  astonishment  Mr.  Peters  rose,  and,  crossing  the 
room,  took  it  from  her,  and  not  only  took  it,  but  deliberately 
tore  apart  the  stitches  which  she  had  already  made. 

"  Well,  I  never,"  said  poor  'Melia,  u  what's  that  for  ?  " 

"  I  never  asked  of  you  to  do  it  for  me,"  Peters  told  her. 
"  I  never  asked  of  you  to  do  anything  for  me.  You  can 
not  say  that  I  did." 

"  W'y,  no  !  "  'Melia  allowed,  "  I  never  said  you  did, 
did  I  ?  That's  no  reason  for  not  doing  it,  is  it  ?  I  don't 
know  what  you're  driving  at,  Cap'n  Peters.  What  have  I 
done  ?  " 

Rivers  sat  half  turned  from  the  fire,  watching  them  with 
out  any  interference.  'Melia  could  take  care  of  herself  he 
thought,  so  far  as  he  thought  of  the  matter  at  all,  and  he 
was  not  going  to  run  the  risk  of  offending  Peters.  When 
'Melia  looked  at  him,  saying  nothing  but  hoping  for  help 
towards  an  explanation,  he  moved  round  again  without  a 
word,  and  'Melia  turned  from  him. 

"  I'll  have  a  walk,"  she  announced,  to  whomsoever  it  con 
cerned.  "  When  you're  ready  to  go  back,  father,  you  can 
shout.  It's  near  time  for  starting." 

She  went  to  the  other  room,  and,  putting  on  her  hat, 
passed  out  alone,  while  Peters  stared  at  the  hills  from  the 
window,  and  Rivers  shifted  uneasily  by  the  fire. 

"  She's  a  silly,  meddling  little  fool,"  Rivers  said,  apolo 
getically,  at  last.  "  What  did  she  do  ?  She  shall  apologize 
presently." 

He  did  not  look  round,  and  so  lost  the  scowl  with  which 


CAND1DUM  SORACTE  307 

Mr.  Peters,  at  that  moment,  was  favoring  him,  and,  when 
the  latter  spoke,  there  was  no  sign  of  trouble  in  his  voice. 

"  It  is  your  language  that  I  cannot  speak,"  he  explained, 
"  and  my  foolishness.  What  have  I  done  ?  The  woman 
who  waits  on  me,  I  pay  her  to  do  all  these  things.  Why 
should  anyone  else  trouble  for  me  ?  That  was  all  I  meant." 

"  Em'ly's  so  hasty,"  Eivers  told  him.  "  She  didn't  wait 
to  understand.  It  comes  from  her  mother,  Captain  Pe 
ters.  She  was  a  good  soul,  but,  well,  a  rough  diamond,  you 
know." 

If  Mr.  Peters  thought  anything,  complimentary  or  other 
wise,  of  this  man  who  was  so  ready  to  summarize  the  dead 
woman,  his  wife,  for  a  stranger's  edification,  his  face  did 
not  show  it.  His  features  were  smooth  once  more,  and  so 
was  his  voice  as  he  answered — 

"  I  will  explain  to  her  presently,"  he  said,  "  and  she  shall 
come  in  for  a  cup  of  tea,  before  you  go." 

He  filled  the  kettle,  and  put  it  upon  the  fire  ;  then  went 
out  into  the  growing  dusk,  found  'Melia,  and  apologized  for 
his  awkwardness.  'Melia  relented  at  once,  and  came  in. 

"  I  s'p'ose  I'm  a  silly,"  she  told  him  as  she  came,  "  but 
truly,  I  thought  I'd  make  you  mad  with  me,  somehow." 

"  How  could  you  think  so  ?  "  Mr.  Peters  protested. 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,  for  I  didn't  mean  any  harm. 
Anyway  it's  all  right,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Peters  assured  her  that  it  was  all  right,  and  that 
everything  was  due  to  his  ignorance  of  the  niceties  of  the 
English  language,  but  nothing  would  persuade  him  to  let 
'Melia  perform  the  little  service  which  she  had  begun. 

She  drank  her  tea  in  silence,  Mr.  Peters  refusing  to  join, 
and  then  a  thing  happened  to  make  her  wonder  more  than 
ever. 

Mr.  Peters,  cutting  bread  quickly,  perhaps  to  allow  some 
suppressed  feeling  an  outlet,  chopped  so  viciously  that  he 
gashed  his  hand  badly.  He  said  nothing,  but  had  to  put 


308  MR.    PETERS 

down  the  loaf,  and  'Melia  saw  the  blood  well  out  before  it 
could  be  hidden. 

"  My  gracious  !  "  she  exclaimed,  and  began  searching  in  a 
pocket  till  she  produced  triumphantly  a  little  case  of  plaster, 
with  a  bandage  and  safety  pins. 

"  I've  carried  it  for  years,"  she  exclaimed  joyfully,  "  ever 
since  ambulance  lectures,  and  no  one,  not  a  living  soul, 
would  ever  go  and  do  anything  for  me  to  put  right." 

By  this  time  she  was  round  at  Mr.  Peters'  side  of  the 
table,  trying  to  get  hold  of  the  injured  hand,  which  he  had 
covered  with  a  handkerchief. 

"  That's  not  the  way,"  she  told  him.  "  Let  me  do  it," 
but  Mr.  Peters  waved  her  off. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  he  insisted.  "  This  will  do.  Go  on  with 
your  tea." 

"  Look  !  "'Melia  answered  indignantly,  pointing  to  where 
the  blood  already  came  through  the  folded  handkerchief. 
"  Call  that  nothing  ?  "  and  when  he  still,  none  too  civilly, 
told  her  to  let  him  alone,  'Melia  grew  sarcastic.  "  If  you're 
under  contract  to  give  that  woman  who  tends  you  all  your 
cut  fingers,  as  well  as  your  torn  shirts,  why — I  won't  steal 
her  customer,  and  I  hope  she'll  make  a  good  job  of  it.  But 
if  I'm  to  understand  that  I'm  no  friend  o'  yours,  and  it's 
for  that  you  won't  lemme  touch  you,  or  any  o'  your  belong 
ings,  why,  speak  plain  and  let's  know  it." 

"  Let  Captain  Peters  alone,  Em'ly,"  Eivers  told  her. 
"  Where  are  your  manners  ?  " 

But  Mr.  Peters,  after  frowning  back  at  'Melia's  angry 
face,  gave  way,  though  most  ungraciously,  and  'Melia  had 
the  pleasure  of  putting  on  a  pad  and  bandage,  secundum 
artern,  with  many  wise  words  concerning  clean  cuts  and 
antiseptics. 

That  done,  it  was  high  time  to  be  going,  but,  after  they 
had  gone  some  steps  from  the  threshold,  Kivers  hurried 
back  for  a  last  word. 


CANDIDUM  SORACTE  309 

"  I'm  an  old  campaigner,"  he  told  Mr.  Peters,  shaking  his 
hand  warmly,  "  and  the  town  stifles  me  at  times.  I  shall 
be  ready,  and  glad,  to  come  up  for  a  night,  and  rough  it  any 
time  that  you'd  like  a  friend  for  company.  What  does  a 
bed  matter  ?  With  a  pipe  and  a  little  whiskey,  and  perhaps 
a  game  if  \ve  felt  we  wanted  variety,  a  night  would  pass  up 
here  before  a  man  knew  it  had  begun  !  "  and  then,  diving 
into  the  white  mist  that  rose  from  the  hollow,  he  disap 
peared. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

FOR  LOVE! 

THAT  Christmas  vacation  Tom  Dunbar  declared  to  his 
people,  in  the  south  of  England,  that  he  could  take  no  holi 
days,  and  persisted  in  his  heroic  resolve,  in  spite  of  a  pa 
thetic  letter  from  his  mother,  entreating  him  to  remember 
that  health  is  the  greatest  of  blessings.  The  letter  included 
a  few  words  upon  the  efficacy  of  a  certain  tonic,  home-made, 
in  which  old  sherry  took  a  prominent  place.  She  said  that 
two  bottles  had  been  packed  for  him,  with  a  plum-pudding, 
a  cake,  and  other  products  of  home  industry,  and  that  he 
must  be  a  good  fellow,  and  be  sure  not  to  work  on  Christmas 
Day  at  anyrate.  She  also  sent  a  bank-note  for  Christmas 
expenses,  and  when  Tom  had  mastered  the  contents  of  that 
letter  he  felt  a  condemned  fraud. 

Of  course  he  was  going  to  work;  there  wasn't  a  doubt  of 
it  in  his  mind,  but  whether  it  was  his  work  that  kept  him  in 
Edinburgh  just  then  was  quite  another  matter.  If  it  were 
not  for  Nell,  Tom  would  have  been  at  home  most  certainly, 
shooting,  hunting,  or  skating,  according  to  weather  and 
opportunity. 

Troubled  with  an  uneasy  conscience  after  reading  the  let 
ter,  he  tried  to  soothe  it  by  a  morning  in  the  infirmary 
wards,  and  by  that  roundabout  route  he  became  aware  of 
the  existence  of  'Melia.  For,  coming  thence,  he  asked  a  fel 
low-student  for  a  cigarette,  and  was  handed  a  case  full  of 
"  Dreams." 

"  Where  do  you  get  these  ?  "  Tom  asked,  and  his  friend 
told  him,  adding  "  Jolly  little  girl  who  sells  'em,  too,  but  as 
hard  as  nails,''  and  with  that  verdict  went  his  own  way. 


FOR   LOVE!  311 

So  Tom,  who  had  finished  the  packet  of  cigarettes  pre 
sented  to  him  by  Lucius,  and  had  gone  through  a  hot  dis 
cussion  with  him  on  their  price  and  merits,  which  had  left 
him  wondering  at  that  worthy's  interest  therein,  went  down 
and  made  'Melia's  acquaintance,  and,  having  made  it,  went 
again  at  odd  times  and  more  frequently  than  was  necessary, 
scenting  a  mystery. 

"  Seems  to  me  you  can't  be  very  busy,"  ''Melia  told  him 
with  her  usual  candor  one  day,  but  on  being  assured  that  it 
was  holiday  time,  said  no  more. 

By  reason  of  irregularity,  he,  at  one  time  and  another, 
met  'Melia's  other  visitors.  One  morning  it  was  Archie, 
deep  in  argument,  and  Archie  glowered  when  he  came,  and 
stayed  till  he  went.  Then  it  was  Rivers,  who  insisted  upon 
introducing  himself— and  Balliol — to  the  obvious  distress 
of  poor  'Melia.  Another  time  it  was  Mr.  Peters,  calling  for 
tobacco  on  his  way  hillward,  and  with  him  Tom  chatted,  his 
professional  eye  being  caught  by  the  bandaged  hand. 

Then,  near  mid-day  on  Christmas  Eve,  as  he  passed  by 
"  Sandy,"  he  caught  sight  of  a  slim,  dainty  figure  that  he 
knew,  and  heard  a  familiar  voice  say,  "  Very  well,  I'll  tell 
them  to  send  round  two  more  plants  this  afternoon."  The 
figure  turned,  and  there  was  Nell  ! 

'Melia  had  the  edifying  advantage  of  seeing  how  very 
confused  a  young  lady  may  appear  when  suddenly  surprised 
by  someone  to  whom,  at  appointed  times  and  places,  she 
can  seem  indifferent  enough.  'Melia  had  time  to  store  up 
her  impressions,  for  Tom — to  her  disgust — forgot  all  about 
buying  anything,  and  straightway  insisted  upon  accom 
panying  Nell  home. 

When  Tom  came  back  'Melia  beamed  upon  him. 

"  I  thought  'twas  a  packet  to  the  bad — your  going  off  like 
that,"  she  informed  him,  and  straightway,  to  Tom's  great 
joy,  began  talking  of  Nell,  sure  that  she  had  an  appreciative 
audience. 


312  MR   PETERS 

"  Isn't  she  pretty  ?  "  'Melia  demanded;  "  and  my  !  but 
she's  got  a  head  too.  The  tips  she  gives  me  about  working 
this  place  ! "  and  Tom,  not  having  asked  Nell  what  had 
brought  her  there,  and  not  having  been  told,  made  no  com 
ment,  but  took  his  packet  of  "  Dreams  "  and  was  interested 
to  find  rhymes  of  his  own  making  upon  this  new  lot. 

"  What  d'you  think  of  'em  ?  "  asked  'Melia,  when  she  saw 
him  reading.  "Mr.  Moriarty's  awful  pleased.  He  told  me 
'twas  a  real  clever  young  chap  that  wrote  'em  for  him,"  and 
Tom  chuckled,  seeing  daylight. 

"  He'll  have  to  pay  for  things  like  that,  won't  he  ?  "  asked 
'Melia. 

"  He'll  certainly  have  to  pay,"  Tom  told  her;  "  you  may 
be  sure  of  that." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  whether  the  packets  '11  stand  any 
more  expenses  upon  'em  or  not,"  'Melia  debated;  "  there 
isn't  much  profit,  Mr.  Dunbar." 

"  I  know  the  fellow  who  did  the  writing,"  Tom  admitted, 
still  grinning.  "  He  must  be  careful  not  to  overcharge, 
Miss  Eivers." 

"  P'r'aps  he'd  take  payment  in  tobacco  ?  "  'Melia  sug 
gested. 

"  Yes,  or  something  else,"  Tom  thought.  "  I  suppose 
the  fellow  who  writes  the  other  things  on  the  packets  of 
mixture  gets  well  paid,  Miss  Kivers  ?  " 

"  Not  he,"  said  'Melia,  promptly,  seeing  a  chance  of  less 
ening  charges.  "  Tie  does  it  just  for  love,  Mr.  Dunbar.  I 
know  that,  because  all  the  expenses  go  down  in  a  book  here. 
Just  for  love  he  does  it.  P'r'aps  your  friend,  if  you  told 
him  that,  would  do  the  same." 

"  Come  !  "  Tom  protested,  enjoying  himself  hugely,  and 
chuckling  more  than  ever  ;  "  you  can't  expect  much  done 
for  love,  can  you  ?  I  think  he'll  want  something  in  ex 
change  if  he  can  get  it  ;  but  he  shall  know  what  you  say," 
and  off  he  went  to  spend  a  good  part  of  the  bank-note  in 


FOR   LOVE!  313 

something  in  the  shape  of  a  Christmas  present,  which 
reached  Nell,  anonymously,  next  morning.  By  the  time  he 
had  done  that,  and  had  thought  over  his  morning's  occupa 
tion,  the  voice  of  conscience  was  dumb,  and  Tom  was  pre 
pared  to  hold  that  his  virtuous  determination,  to  work 
through  Christmas,  was  already  justified  by  results. 

"  That  evening,  when  Lucius  called  upon  'Melia  to  give 
her  a  Christmas-box,  and  to  find  out  what  she  thought  of 
the  new  wrappers,  he  got  a  shock. 

"  I've  sold  some  already,"  'Melia  told  him,  "  and  I  don't 
think  you'll  be  overcharged  for  the  poetry,  sir." 

"  What  d'ye  mean  ?  "  Lucius  asked,  staring  at  her,  and 
running  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  until  it  stood  in  an 
astonished  fringe. 

"  A  friend  o'  yours,  Mr.  Dunbar,  was  in  to-day,  by  chance, 
sir." 

"  How  d'ye  know  he's  a  friend  o'  mine  ?  "  growled  Lu 
cius. 

"  Miss  Moriarty  was  here  about  some  more  plants — two 
for  the  window,"  'Melia  explained,  "  and  he  came  in." 

"  By  golly  ! "  Lucius  ejaculated  under  his  breath,  "  the 
fat's  in  the  fire.  I  never  thought  o'  that  !  What  next  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

"  Well,  after  Miss  Moriarty  was  gone,  Mr.  Dunbar  took 
one  o'  the  new  packets.  He  smokes  'em  regular,  sir." 

"  By  golly  !  the  divil  he  does  ?  " 

"  And  he  ses,"  'Melia  went  on,  being  accustomed  to  Mori- 
arty's  muttered  comments,  "  that  he  knows  the  gentleman 
who  wrote  this  poetry.  I  told  him  you  said  he  was  awful 
clever." 

"  Oh  !  go  on,"  Lucius  groaned. 

"  And  I  told  him  that  the  poetry  upon  the  packets  of 
mixture  was  done  for  love — for  nothing  I  mean — so  that 
his  friend  must  be  moderate  in  his  charges,"  'Melia  con 
cluded  triumphantly,  and  Lucius,  finding  his  feelings  too 


314  MR.    PETERS 

much  for  him,  hurriedly  presented  the  Christmas-box,  told 
her  not  to  open  the  shop  next  day,  and  made  his  escape. 
On  his  doorstep  he  considered  the  matter  once  more,  and 
summed  up  thus — 

"  Th'  young  rascal  has  the  whip-hand  o'  me  now.  The 
other  poetry  he'll  know  was  mine,  if  I  didn't  pay  for  it. 
Good  stuff  like  that  isn't  got  for  nothing,  though  I  say  it 
as  shouldn't.  By  golly  !  " 


CHAPTER   XLIII 

CHRISTMAS   PRESENTS 

WHILE  Nelly,  on  Christmas  morning,  was  smiling  over 
a  silver  waist-buckle,  and  blushing  a  little  at  the  unsigned 
sonnet  that  came  with  it,  'Melia  also  was  rejoicing. 

She  had  decided  to  take  her  breakfast  in  bed  that  morn 
ing  "  like  a  lady,"  and  had  persuaded  her  landlady,  who  had 
a  grim,  undemonstrative  liking  for  her,  to  bring  it  up. 

As  the  time  came  for  its  appearance,  there  was  a  bumping 
and  a  banging  upon  the  stair  outside,  and  'Melia,  already 
very  wide-awake  and  hungry,  and  not  sure  that  breakfast  in 
bed  was  desirable  after  all,  became  anxious  for  its  safety. 

"  Do  be  careful,"  she  called  out,  sitting  up  in  the  bed, 
"  or  you'll  drop  the  tray,  and  where'll  my  tea  be  then  ?  " 

But  the  banging  and  the  bumping  went  on,  until  the  door 
was  pushed  open,  and  the  panting  Mrs.  Meiklejohn  ap 
peared,  struggling,  not  with  the  breakfast  tray,  but  with  a 
new  bicycle. 

"  Thocht  ye'd  maybe  like  yer  Christmas  first,"  she  an 
nounced,  and  'Melia,  being  untrained  in  the  repression  of 
emotion,  fairly  yelled. 

"  Not  for  me  !  "  she  assured  Mrs.  Meiklejohn.  "  Oh,  it 
can't  be  for  me  !  Oh,  what  a  beauty  !  Take  it  away  out 
of  my  sight,  do  !  " 

"  To  Miss  Rivers,"  retorted  Mrs.  Meiklejohn,  "  and  no 
chairges."  'Melia,  still  refusing  to  believe,  had  her  name 
pointed  out,  written  upon  a  ticket  on  the  handle-bar. 

"  Who's  it  from  ?     Where's  it  from  ?  " 

"  A  dinna  ken.  Yer  faither,  maybe  !  "  suggested  Mrs. 
Meiklejohn,  who  had  once  seen  Rivers.  Then  she  left  the 


316  MR.   PETERS 

room  with  what,  for  her,  was  a  smile,  and  fetched  'Melia's 
breakfast  up,  reminding  her,  sarcastically,  that  she  had  said 
she  was  going  to  church. 

"  Arid  so  I  will  !  "  'Melia  insisted.  "  Christmas  is  Christ 
mas  where  I  come  from,"  and  then  sighed  to  think  that  the 
bicycle  must  remain  untried  for  three  or  four  hours.  So 
she  went  to  church,  and  did  her  best  to  keep  bicycles  out  of 
her  mind  while  there  ;  then,  coming  home  like  the  wind, 
changed  her  dress,  and  tried  her  new  treasure  over  three  or 
four  miles  of  the  cleanest  road  obtainable. 

She  could  not  decide  who  had  sent  it.  There  were  three 
persons  possible — Eivers,  Peters,  and  Archie.  She  would 
not  let  herself  acknowledge  that  Eivers  was  the  least  likely, 
was  indeed  almost  impossible.  She  determined  to  say 
nothing,  until  she  had  seen  whether  anyone  would  mention 
the  matter. 

Then — in  the  middle  of  the  Queensferry  Road — she  was 
suddenly  struck  by  an  idea  that  had  never  entered  her  head 
before.  If  it  wasn't  her  father — if  it  was  Cap'n  Peters — 
or  still  worse,  if  it  was  Archie  who  sent  the  bicycle,  what 
right  had  she  to  take  such  a  present  ?  Poor  'Melia,  dis 
mayed,  looked  down  at  the  flying  wheel  before  her,  and  saw 
on  it  unmistakable  signs  of  her  journey. 

"  What  can  I  do  now  ?  "  she  wondered.  "  Any  fool  can 
see  I've  used  it.  Second-hand  !  That's  what  it  is  now, 
and  I  don't  know  where  it  came  from,  nor  if  I  can  keep  it." 

This  rather  depressed  her,  but  she  got  home  very  hungry 
nevertheless,  and  spent  a  great  part  of  the  time  between 
dinner  and  tea  in  cleaning  and  admiring  the  bicycle. 

In  the  evening,  who  should  visit  her  but  Rivers  and 
Mr.  Peters.  Rivers  would  not  have  come,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  Mr.  Peters.  'Melia  thought  Mr.  Peters  had  come 
in  from  the  hills  specially  for  the  purpose  of  wishing  her  a 
merry  Christmas,  and  was  unnecessarily  grateful  to  both. 

"  When'll  you  get  back  ?  "  she  asked  Peters. 


CHRISTMAS   PRESENTS  317 

"  Not  to-night,"  he  told  her.  "  I  wish  to  see  you  good 
people  when  you  are  gay.  This  is  the  happy  time  when 
you  are  all  gay,  and  love  one  another,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  'Melia  answered,  considering.  "  It  may 
be  so  where  you  come  from,  Cap'n  Peters,  but  here  I  think 
one's  feelin's  is  much  the  same  as  usual.  Friends  '11  be 
kind  "  (here  she  thought  of  the  bicycle),  and  enemies — well, 
enemies  may  wish  you  a  merry  Christmas,  for  the  look  o'  the 
thing,  but  I  don't  s'pose  it  counts  for  much.  Now  I  come 
to  think  of  it,  you  never  wished  me  a  merry  Christmas." 

"  It  is  over,  is  it  not  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Peters.  "  I  hope  you 
have  had  one." 

"  Oh,  I  count  it  till  the  New  Year,"  'Melia  insisted. 
"'  Wish  me  a  merry  Christmas,  Cap'n  Peters;  come,  now,  or 
I  shall  think  you're  vexed  with  me  still  for  that,"  and  she 
pointed  to  his  left  hand,  now  adorned  with  sticking  plaster. 

"  Ah  !  I  owe  you  for  that,"  he  told  her,  looking  at  it, 
however,  without  any  great  appearance  of  satisfaction. 
"  From  now  till  the  New  Year,  you  say.  A  whole  week  ? 
But  I  like  to  pay  my  debts  in  full,  and  over.  I  wish  you  a 
merry  Christmas." 

"  Well,  I  can't  see  that  it's  paying  anything  very  dear, 
just  to  wish  a  body  a  merry  Christmas,"  'Melia  insisted. 
"  Still,  as  you  don't  owe  me  nothing,  we  won't  quarrel 
about  that." 

"  Let  us  make  it  merry,"  Peters  suggested.  "  Can  we 
not  go  anywhere,  to  see  all  the  good  people  happy  ?  Come, 
I  will  give  you  the  evening  for  a  Christmas  present,  and  the 
good  Rivers  will  guard  our  ways.  Where  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  father  pretends  to  be  good,  any  more 
than  other  people,  do  you,  father  ?  "  'Melia  said,  irritably. 
"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  be  always  usin'  that  word,  Cap'n 
Peters.  It  makes  me  cross  somehow." 

"  I  thought  you  and  I  were  going  to  have  a  quiet  evening 
by  the  fire  in  my  room,  to-night,"  Rivers  broke  in,  frowning 


318  MR.    PETERS 

at  Mr.  Peters.  "  It's  a  beastly  night,  and  there'll  be  crowds 
everywhere/' 

"  We  want  crowds,"  Peters  pointed  out,  ignoring  the  sig 
nals,  "  crowds  of  happy  people.  Come  !  It  is  my  Christ 
mas  present." 

"  Oh  !  that's  your  Christmas  present  ? "  'Melia  said. 
"  Well,  that  settles  something  else,  anyway.  Yes,  I'll  come 
if  father  will." 

"  Oh,  he  will  come,"  Mr.  Peters  decided.  "  We  can  have 
a  chat  by  the  fire,  your  father  and  I,  and  drink  our  healths 
after  we  have  brought  you  back.  He  will  give  you  his 
company  for  three  hours,  the  good — or,  let  us  say,  the  gen 
erous  Rivers.  That  is  his  Christmas  present." 

'Melia  looked  anxiously  at  llivers,  who,  somewhat 
cheered  by  the  prospect  of  a  profitable  evening  later  on, 
said  that  he  would  come,  of  course,  and  that  Em'ly  must 
choose  some  little  thing,  not  too  expensive,  say  half-a- 
crown,  to-night  or  to-morrow,  as  a  present  from  her  poor 
father. 

"  That  settles  it  !  "  'Melia  announced,  half  to  herself,  and 
went  from  Mrs.  Meikle John's  little  sitting-room,  where  she 
had  received  her  visitors,  to  put  on  her  cloak.  She  now 
knew  where  the  bicycle  came  from,  at  anyrate.  What  she 
should  do  about  it,  'Melia  couldn't  decide.  It  is  certain 
that  she  never  thought  of  consulting  either  her  father  or 
Mr.  Peters,  both  of  whom  presently  sallied  out  with  her  in 
search  of  amusement. 

It  was  to  the  Waverley  Market  they  went  that  night  for 
their  crowd — and  found  it. 

To  the  sounds  of  brass  bands,  hurdy-gurdys,  bagpipes, 
steam-whistles,  showmen's  calls,  the  cries  of  wild  beasts, 
and  those  of  that  superior  animal,  man,  on  the  rampage, 
'Melia  went  the  round. 

She  saw  the  Beheaded  Lady,  looking  remarkably  com 
posed,  the  Missing  Link,  the  Fat  Boy,  and  the  Living  Skel- 


CHRISTMAS   PRESENTS  319 

eton.  She  fired  six  shots  at  the  dancing  glass  balls,  without 
shrieking,  which  was  considered  unwomanly  by  Annie, 
from  the  House  of  Residence,  who  stood  near  and  tried  to 
make  out  what  brought  together  "  Old  Rivers,"  the  stony 
hearted  Mr.  Peters,  and  this  forward  thing,  who,  the  char 
itable  Annie  felt  certain,  was  no  better  than  she  should  be. 

But,  in  the  seething  mass  that  filled  the  place,  Annie  lost 
sight  of  them,  shoved  hither  and  thither  in  a  good-tempered 
way  as  everyone  was,  by  everyone  else. 

'Melia  afterwards  careered  in  a  dignified  manner  upon 
the  merry-go-round,  and  at  last,  when  Rivers  had  begun  to 
grumble,  stood  before  the  gypsy-tent. 

"  Reel  gypsies  ?  "  asked  'Melia.  "  Oh,  my  !  I've  never 
had  my  fortune  told,  Cap'n  Peters  !  " 

'Melia's  remark  was  overheard  by  a  man  standing  at  the 
tent-door,  and  he  turned  to  her  at  once. 

"  Now's  the  time  then,  miss  !  No  time  like  the  present. 
Walk  in  while  grandmother's  got  the  fit  on  her.  Lord  !  the 
beautiful  things  she's  promised  to-night,  to  young  ladies 
not  half  so  good-looking.  Walk  in,  miss,  and  get  a  golden 
fortune  told  you  for  a  bit  of  silver.  You've  a  lucky  face, 
and  don't  you  go  and  throw  it  away." 

The  fellow  had  a  dark  eye  and  a  roguish  air.  He  looked 
at  'Melia  with  bold  admiration.  "  You  might  wait  a  twelve 
month  and  not  get  such  a  chance,"  he  told  her.  "  Will 
you  miss  a  fortune  for  a  shilling  or  so  ?  " 

"  We've  spent  enough  already,"  said  'Melia,  peering  into 
the  tent  and  its  mysterious  shadows.  "  Ain't  it  shuddery- 
like,  Cap'n  Peters  ?  Will  you  get  your  fortune  told  ?  Do 
you  believe  in  it  ?  v 

"  N"o,"  Mr.  Peters  said,  disregarding  the  filial  pride  of 
the  dark-eyed  man  at  the  tent-door  ;  "  no,  it  is  humbug, 
altogether." 

"  Hark  to  the  gentleman  ! "  said  the  dark-eyed  man. 
"  It's  easy  to  see  lie's  never  had  a  fortune  told.  Go  in,  sir, 


320  MR.    PETERS 

and  see  what  the  new  year'll  give  to  you.  There's  changes 
in  it  for  you.  I  can  read  that,  though  I've  not  got  the  sight 
like  my  grandmother,  nothing  like.  Take  him  in,  lady,  and 
let  grandmother  tell  him  what  he  can  expect." 

"  I'd  like  to  hear  your  fortune,  Oap'n  Peters,  a'most  as 
well  as  my  own,"  'Melia  declared,  politely,  "  but  if  you 
don't  believe  in  it,  of  course,  you  won't  go  in  an'  throw 
money  away,  as  you  may  say." 

Mr.  Peters  was  in  a  generous  mood,  however,  and  looked 
at  it  in  a  different  light. 

"  If  I  believed,"  he  explained,  "  I  would  not  go  in,  but 
since  I  know  it  is  humbug,  what  does  it  matter  ?  It  is 
your  night,  your  merry  Christmas.  Come  !  "  so  they  all 
three  passed  in,  'Melia  protesting,  half-heartedly,  against 
the  extravagance  as  she  went. 

A  thing,  that  might  be  an  old  woman,  or  might  be  a 
bundle  of  old  clothes,  sat  silent  and  indistinct  among  the 
shadows,  just  inside  the  door. 

A  youngish  woman,  standing  by  a  little  stove,  with  her 
back  to  the  entrance,  muttered  over  the  hand  of  an  open- 
mouthed,  wide-eyed  country  lass. 

She  finished  hurriedly  as  the  others  came  in,  and  turned 
to  them,  but  the  bundle  of  clothes  near  the  entrance  rose 
and  came  forward,  showing  itself  to  be  a  very  old,  black- 
eyed,  skinny  creature,  wrinkled  like  a  dry  apple. 

The  younger  woman  drew  back,  as  the  other  stood  before 
them,  looking  with  bright  bird-like  eyes  from  one  to  the 
other. 

"  Come  along,  Cap'n  Peters  !  she's  waitin'  for  you," 
'Melia  said  in  a  hushed  voice  ;  but  Mr.  Peters,  quite  unim 
pressed,  "as  if  he  was  at  'ome,"  as  'Melia  told  him  after 
wards,  insisted  that  she  must  be  first. 

'Melia,  still  faintly  protesting  but  very  much  excited, 
held  out  her  hand,  the  necessary  silver  being  produced  by 
Mr.  Peters,  while  Pavers  stood  by,  and  sneered  in  a  superior 


CHRISTMAS   PRESENTS  321 

manner,  listening,  nevertheless,  to  hear  what  Fortune 
would  bestow  upon  his  daughter.  The  gypsy  waved  both 
the  men  back,  and  then  gave  'Melia  a  prediction,  concern 
ing  fair  and  dark  gentlemen,  that  kept  her  alternately  smil 
ing  and  sober-faced  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

Then  came  Peters,  and  while  the  woman  peered  into  his 
large  hand,  'Melia  stood  by  unrebuked.  She  heard  little  of 
interest. 

"  Born  under  Mars  and  Venus,"  the  woman  told  him, 
"  and  you're  a  gentleman  with  a  will  of  your  own,"  which 
the  average  observer  could  have  guessed,  without  seeing 
his  hand.  "  A  free-handed  gentleman,"  the  gypsy  con 
tinued. 

"You're  that,  Cap'n  Peters,"  'Melia  certified.  "You 
know  you  are.  Now,  how  can  she  tell  ?  "  and  was  much 
impressed,  not  having  taken  into  account  the  probable 
effect  upon  the  gypsy's  opinions  of  the  two  liberal  tips  out 
of  Mr.  Peters'  pocket.  The  woman  went  on  about  business, 
journeys  in  foreign  lands,  much  to  be  settled  in  the  coming 
year,  and  ended  up  with  a  safe  prediction. 

"  You'll  take  another  voyage  before  the  next  year's  out, 
Captain,"  she  told  him,  and  Mr.  Peters  laughed.  He  cer 
tainly  would  take  another  voyage,  he  thought,  directly  his 
business  was  ended,  and  turned  to  go. 

But  the  old  woman  had  already  fastened  upon  Eivers, 
who,  although  sulky  at  being  kept  from  a  more  profitable 
amusement,  was  not  so  determined  to  resist  her  blandish 
ments  as  he  had  been. 

"  Come,  lady  !  "  the  old  crone  insisted,  "  make  the  gen 
tleman  listen  to  me,  there's  a  pretty  deary." 

"  A  shilling  '11  do  it,  father,  after  what  she's  got  from 
Cap'n  Peters  already,"  'Melia  suggested,  and  Eivers  gave 
way. 

"  The  hand  of  a  gentleman  born,"  the  woman  told  him. 
"  You've  had  your  ups  and  your  downs,  you've  got  your 
21 


322  Mil.    PETERS 

friends  and  your  enemies,  but  you'll  come  to  your  own  in 
the  end." 

"  Own  what  ?  "  asked  'Melia,  breathless,  but  the  gypsy 
shook  her  head. 

"  His  rights,  dearie,  I  don't  know  what.  Maybe  a  for 
tune,  maybe  the  House  o'  Lords,  1  can't  tell.  But  there's 
many  things  '11  happen.  I  see  gold  and  I  see  a  journey,  and 
I  can't  see  any  more  for  the  money." 

Finding  Rivers  regardless  of  the  hint,  she  dropped  his 
hand,  and,  collapsing  into  her  seat,  became  once  more  a 
mere  bundle  of  cast-off  clothing,  inanimate,  and  deaf  to 
the  entreaties  of  'Melia  for  more  prophecy. 

"  It's  no  use,  lady,"  said  the  dark-eyed  doorkeeper,  pok 
ing  his  head  inside  the  tent,  with  a  grin,  "  the  fit's  off 
her  now,  and  she  won't  say  no  more,  not  though  the  Queen 
comes  an'  kneels  down  before  her,  she's  that  contrary. 
'Alf-a-crown  might  do  it,  but  no  less." 

That  sum  was  not  forthcoming,  and  the  three  of  them 
went  away,  Mr.  Peters  commenting  as  they  went,  perhaps 
to  himself,  perhaps  to  'Melia,  upon  the  dark-eyed  man's 
opinion  of  the  relative  persuasive  values  of  Her  Most  Gra 
cious  Majesty  and  of  half-a-crown. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

UNDEH  EXAMINATION 

'MELIA'S  Merry  Christmas  time  was  nearly  over,  for  it 
was  now  the  day  before  New  Year's  Eve.  The  shortest  day 
having  passed,  winter  tightened  his  grip  upon  the  land, 
as  a  man  when  past  his  prime  may  grip  gold,  and  the  lochs 
and  pools  were  ice-bound.  Then  (it  being  an  ill  wind  that 
blows  nobody  good),  while  the  aged,  the  ill-fed,  and  the 
weakly  cramped  themselves  together — shrinking  from  a 
touch  which  for  them  was  the  touch  of  death — the  lusty 
and  full-blooded,  the  fittest,  fated  to  survive,  came  out  to 
face  the  ice  king,  and  felt  the  better  for  doing  so. 

That  day  a  party  met  for  lunch  at  Lucius  Moriarty's 
table,  with  the  purpose  of  skating  afterwards  on  Dudding- 
ston  Loch. 

Madge  Murray  had  persuaded  Nell  to  invite  Mr.  Peters, 
and  Nell  had  also  invited  Tom  Dunbar,  telling  herself  that 
it  was  his  vacation,  and  that  he  had  been  a  good  fellow  to 
stay  and  work  all  through  Christmas. 

Lucius  came  up  from  his  office  for  lunch,  certain  ships 
being  ice-bound  somewhere,  and  he  being  in  consequence 
not,  so  busy  as  usual. 

"  It's  a  poor  heart  that  never  rejoices,"  he  told  Madge 
Murray.  "  If  I  can't  see  me  ships,  T  can  see  me  friends," 
and  Madge,  always  quick  to  see  a  compliment,  whether 
expressed  or  implied,  laughed,  and  said  she  was  glad  to  be 
a  consolation. 

"  Faith  !  "  Lucius  declared.  "  Consolation,  is  it  ?  Why, 
a  few  smiles  like  that  '11  keep  me  heart  warm  for  the  rest  o' 
this  most  inclement  season.  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to 
let  Nell  go  wid  ye  on  the  ice  at  all,  at  all  ! " 


324  MR.   PETERS 

Why  not  ?  "  asked  Madge,  spying  another  compliment, 
and  smiling  upon  the  gallant  Moriarty. 

"  The  ice  '11  melt  under  the  eyes  of  ye  ! "  Lucius  de 
clared,  and  then,  having  rebuked  Nell  for  laughing  at  him, 
went  off  to  his  office  again,  and  the  others  started  for  the  ice. 

Since  Madge  was  now  bestowing  her  smiles  and  her  con 
versation  entirely  upon  Mr.  Peters,  Nell  felt  bound  to  walk 
with  Tom  Dunbar. 

"  It's  awfully  good  of  you  to  invite  me,"  he  told  her. 

"  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you,"  Nell  explained,  and  then, 
seeing  he  looked  unduly  jubilant,  "  to  scold  you,"  she  added 
severely. 

"  Let's  put  it  off  until  we  come  back,"  Tom  suggested 
meekly. 

"  Best  get  it  over,  I  think,"  Nell  decided,  with  great 
firmness.  "  Have  you  been  sending  any  Christmas  pres 
ents  ?  " 

"  Let  me  see,"  Tom  reflected  carefully,  with  a  vacant 
stare,  as  at  some  far  distant  period.  "  Yes,  I  sent  the 
Mater  a  card." 

"  Anything  else  ?  "  Nell  demanded,  watching  him  nar 
rowly. 

"  No,"  Tom  assured  her,  serenely.  "  She  doesn't  like  to 
get  more  than  a  card,  she  says,  till  I'm  in  practice." 

"  I  didn't  mean  that,"  Nell  told  him,  speaking  pretty 
sharply  because  she  felt  sure  the  scamp  was  laughing  at 
her.  "  I  mean,  did  you  send  any  other  presents  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Tom  cheerfully,  "  I  sent  a  knife  to  my 
young  brother,  and  I  know  he'll  cut  his  fingers  before  the 
New  Year  ;  I  sent  a  box  of  chocolate  to  Trida  (that's 
my  youngest  sister,  you  know),  and  a  book  to  'Trix,  who's 
the  oldest." 

"  Anything  more  ?  "  Tom  began  to  feel  as  if  he  were  at 
tlio  Confessional. 

"  Well,"  he  allowed,  with  an  air  of  polite  surprise,  "  I 


UNDER  EXAMINATION  325 

sent  a  card,  a  funny  one,  to  Mary  Ann,  but  I  forget  the 
words  or  I'd  repeat  'em.  You  don't  know  Mary  Ann,  do 
you  ?  She's  our  old  cook.  Her  surname  is  Brown.  The 
errand  boys  call  her  Missis  Brown — though  she  isn't  mar 
ried — just  to  natter  her.  She's  one  of  eleven  in  a  family. 
I  wish  I  could  remember  the  rhymes,  but  if  you'll  let  me 
think  a  minute —  He  stopped,  still  showing  an  air  of 

innocent  and  polite  surprise,  for  Nell,  much  against  her 
will,  had  begun  to  laugh. 

"  That  will  do,"  she  told  him.  "  It's  very  good  of  you  to 
tell  me  so  much.  You  sent  nothing  else  worth  mentioning, 
I  suppose  ?  " 

"  No,"  Tom  shook  his  head  soberly,  after  consideration, 
"  I  sent  nothing  else  worth  mentioning." 

"  Christmas  presents  are  a  nuisance  in  some  ways,  don't 
you  think  ?  "  Nell  asked  him. 

"  I  don't  find  'em  so,"  Tom  declared,  sturdily.  "  Sorry 
if  you  do." 

"  Well,  I  do,"  Nell  insisted,  "  particularly  when  I  have  to 
send  them  back." 

"  What  do  you  send  'em  back  for  ?  "  demanded  Tom,  so 
much  interested  that  he  cannoned  against  another  man  on 
the  pavement,  and  had  to  apologize.  "  What  on  earth  do 
you  send  them  back  for  ?  "  he  repeated,  as  soon  as  he  had 
recovered  his  balance. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Nell,  demurely,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  I 
mean.  Do  look  where  you're  going  though,  or  you'll  knock 
someone  down  !  " 

This  was  probable,  for  Tom,  in  his  anxiety  to  watch  her 
face,  had  charged  another  unoffending  wayfarer  into  the 
road. 

"  Deuce  of  a  lot  of  room  these  people  want  !  "  he  mut 
tered  to  himself,  and  then  asked  Nell  to  explain. 

"  I  had  a  present  sent  from  a  shop  in  Princes  Street,"  she 
told  him,  "  and,  of  course,  I  must  take  it  back  and  explain 


326  MR.    PETERS 

to  them  that  I  can't  keep  it,  because  I  don't  know  from 
whom  it  came." 

"  Would  you  keep  it  if  you  did  know  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  That  depends.     What  could  I  use  it  for  ?  " 

The  device  was  simple  enough,  but  Tom  blundered  at 
once.  "  I  should  think  it  might  do  well  enough  for  a  belt," 
he  suggested,  and  Nell  at  once  turned  upon  him. 

"  What  might  ?  " 

"  You  said — didn't  you  say ?  " 

"Well!  goon." 

"  I  thought  you  said  what  it  was,"  Tom  explained. 

"  What  did  you  think  I  said  it  was  ?  " 

"  Something  for  a  belt." 

"  A  silver  buckle,  for  example  ?  No,  I  hadn't  mentioned 
it.  How  funny  that  you  should  happen  to  hit  upon  that  !  " 

Tom  went  along  in  dogged  silence  for  a  few  yards,  and 
then  collapsed. 

"  I'm  an  ass,"  he  told  her  confidentially,  "  I  suppose  it's 
a  good  thing  that  I  know  it.  It's  no  use  my  trying  to  hum 
bug  anyone.  Of  course,  I  know  it's  a  silver  buckle.  I  sup 
pose  I  thought  you'd  be  more  likely  to  wear  it,  if  you 
weren't  sure  that  it  came  from  me.  But  you  might  keep 
a  trifle  like  that,  anyway." 

"  A  trifle,  indeed  !  and  do  you  call  that  a  trifle  ?  "  asked 
Nell  severely,  comforted  to  find  Tom  in  such  a  state  of 
abject  humility,  and  she  was  proceeding  to  a  lecture  upon 
the  sin  of  thoughtless  extravagance  when,  perhaps  to  her 
relief,  perhaps  to  Tom's,  Mr.  Peters  intervened. 

He  asked  some  trivial  question,  but  did  not  quit  Nell's 
side  after  being  answered.  Perhaps  he  thought  that  a 
change  of  society  would  be  pleasant,  perhaps  he  was  of 
opinion  that  it  would  be  more  sociable  if  the  four  kept 
together.  At  anyrate,  he  kept  near  to  Tom  and  Nellie, 
and,  since  Madge  'perforce  did  the  same,  the  chat  became 
general,  and  the  lecture  was  indefinitely  postponed. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

DUDDLNGSTON    LOCH 

IT  was  a  dusky  late  afternoon,  on  Duddingston  Loch. 
The  air  was  still,  the  smoke  hung  almost  unstirred  over 
the  city  to  the  northwest,  Arthur's  Seat  towered  white  and 
wintry  above  the  Queen's  Drive. 

But,  on  the  ice  below,  there  was  a  perpetual  hum  and 
movement. 

Word  had  gone  abroad  that  there  was  skating  at  Dud 
dingston,  and  the  whole  stretch  of  ice  was  thrown  open  to 
the  crowd,  save  for  some  fifty  square  yards,  roped  off  to  the 
north.  That  lay  quiet  and  bare,  temptingly  smooth  and 
unmarked.  Ambitious  skaters,  anxious  for  a  clear  space, 
looked  at  it  longingly,  but  flitted  by,  threading  a  way 
through  the  swaying,  changing,  chattering  crowd.  There 
was  laughing  and  shouting  from  end  to  end  of  the  loch, 
with  the  constant  swish,  swish,  of  skate-blades,  and  the 
rattle  and  rush  of  the  curling-stones  where  the  Roaring 
G-ame  was  in  full  swing. 

As  the  dusk  crept  on,  it  brought,  to  some,  a  feeling  of 
romance — a  feeling  as  if  the  town,  the  world,  were  far  away, 
and  they  were  moving  among  shadows.  .Tom,  swinging 
by  Nell's  side,  swayed  a  little  closer,  and  gripped  her  hands 
more  firmly,  whilst  Xell  felt  that  she  could  not  scold  him, 
just  now,  about  the  buckle  ;  it  was  altogether  too  petty  for 
such  a  time,  and  found  herself  wishing  that  the  ice  would 
stretch  farther  ahead,  smooth  and  untouched  for  them 
alone. 

The  dusky  unreality  of  everything  that  night  was  felt  by 


328  MR.    PETERS 

Madge  Murray  too.  She  looked  more  keenly  for  admira 
tion,  and,  failing  to  get  any  satisfactory  sign  of  it  from  Mr. 
Peters,  fished  for  it  more  openly. 

She  persuaded  him  to  teach  her  new  figures,  and  showed, 
recklessly,  how  far  she  was  ready  to  depend  upon  his  hand 
for  safety. 

"  I  saw  your  friend  at  the  tobacconist's  shop  the  other 
clay,"  she  told  him,  resting  after  a  lesson. 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  undisturbed. 

"  She  told  you,  did  she  ?  The  young  person  seems  very 
friendly." 

"  With  you  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Peters. 

"  Don't  be  ridiculous  !    No,  with  you." 

"  I  find  many  ready  to  be  friendly,"  Mr.  Peters  admitted, 
without  any  appearance  of  gratitude. 

"  A  girl  like  that,  Mr.  Peters,  soon  gets  her  head  turned. 
She  doesn't  understand  foreign  complimentary  ways." 

"  Ah  !  the  poor  foreigner,"  said  Mr.  Peters.  "  He  must 
always  make  mistakes  outside  his  own  country." 

"  Yes,  that's  quite  true,"  Madge  told  him.  "  We  all  do, 
and  it's  only  kind,  I  think,  to  warn  one's  friends." 

"  I  will  be  more  careful,"  he  promised.  "  Is  it  right, 
according  to  your  custom,  that  I  should  ask  you  to  skate 
with  me  ?  " 

He  hadn't  asked  her,  and  Madge  frowned  at  him  before 
answering,  but  Mr.  Peters  was  engaged  in  tying  his  boot 
lace. 

"  Yes,  that's  all  right,"  she  told  him.  "  It's  only  when 
you  pay  too  much  attention  to  anyone  of  a  lower  class  in 
society,  that  silly  people  talk.  Come  !  show  me  that  figure 
again." 

Mr.  Peters  showed  her,  and  Madge  tried  it,  but  had  a 
collision  with  a  scudding,  broom-carrying  young  ragamuf 
fin,  and  would  have  fallen,  had  she  not  clutched  at  the  im 
movable  Peters. 


DUDDINGSTON  LOCH  329 

"  You  are  strong,"  she  said,  "  but  there's  no  room  to  do 
anything  here.  Let's  go  just  inside  that  rope." 

"  You  wish  to  drown  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Peters. 

"  I'm  not  a  bit  afraid  of  that,"  Madge  insisted.  "  I'm 
sure  it  will  bear  a  few,  just  as  well  as  the  rest  does.  The 
crowd's  afraid  to  go  where  there's  a  rope,  and  that's  all 
they  put  it  up  for." 

Mr.  Peters  made  no  answer.  He  was  looking  at  a  familiar 
figure  that  stood  on  the  ice  near  the  bank — no  other  than 
Rivers.  That  worthy,  having  met  Archie  Inch  with  his 
skates  in  Princes  Street,  had  button-holed  the  young  man, 
and  introduced  the  subject  of  'Melia.  If  anything  in  the 
wide  world  could  have  made  thoughts  of  'Melia  unpleasant 
to  Archie,  the  presence  of  her  father  would  have  done  it. 
He  could  not  mention  to  Rivers  her  incomprehensible  ways 
— such  ways  as,  for  example,  her  tearful  desire  to  make 
so  me 'arrangement  for  returning  the  bicycle,  which  she  had 
refused  to  ride  again.  But  Rivers,  allowed  to  maunder  on 
unchecked,  might  let  fall  some  useful  hint  for  Archie's 
guidance,  and  they  had  come  down  to  the  loch  together, 
Archie  fervently  hoping  that  he  might  meet  no  friends  by 
the  way. 

Now  Archie  had  become  lost  in  the  crowd,  and  Rivers, 
when  Mr.  Peters  saw  him,  was  watching  the  skaters  with  a 
critical  air,  helping  himself  liberally  from  a  large  flask 
which  he  had  just  purchased  at  the  "  Sheep's  Head,"  say 
ing,  to  an  acquaintance  who  had  just  slowed  up  to  him, 
that  he  saw  nothing  here  to  come  anywhere  near  Oxford 
form. 

The  fellow  winked  to  a  friend  standing  by,  having  heard 
frequently  of  Oxford  from  Rivers,  and  thinking  that  he  saw 
a  chance  of  some  fun. 

"  Skate  yourself  ?  "  he  asked  innocently,  and  Rivers  gave 
him  to  understand  that,  if  he  chose,  he  could,  even  yet, 
show  the  skaters  of  Edinburgh  a  thing  or  two. 


330  MK.    1'ETERS 

"  Pity  you've  no  skates,"  suggested  the  other  man,  and 
Elvers,  having  no  skates,  but  a  fair  amount  of  the  flask's 
contents,  seemed  to  think  it  icas  a  pity. 

"  Dab  at  figures  ?  "  he  asked,  cutting  a  couple  of  threes 
without  getting  out  of  earshot.  Rivers  modestly  admitted 
that  he  had  never  been  anything  extraordinary  for  pace, 

but  when  it  came  to  figures,  well !  "I  was  president  of 

our  club,"  he  explained,  and  the  man  winked  at  his  friend 
again. 

"  A  fellow  forgets  it  all  in  a  year  or  two,"  the  third  man 
told  them.  "  This  gentleman  couldn't  do  a  three  now  to 
save  his  life." 

"  Oh,  nonsense.  He  could  do  a  simple  thing  like  that 
now,  if  he  ever  could  !  " 

"  I  tell  you,"  declared  the  third  man,  "  I  wouldn't  be 
surprised  if  he  couldn't  go  from  one  side1  to  the  other 
without  a  tumble,"  and,  really,  taking  into  account  the 
crowd,  and  the  flask,  and  allowing  for  Rivers'  noted  men 
dacity,  the  probability  was  that  he  was  right. 

The  end  of  it  was  a  bet  with  Rivers  of  five  shillings  to  one 
that  he  could  not  skate  from  one  side  of  the  loch  to  the 
other  without  a  fall,  and  another  bet,  of  ten  to  one,  that  he 
would  not  do  a  figure  of  three  on  his  return. 

Mr.  Peters,  still  watching  with  interest,  saw  Rivers  begin 
to  put  on  skates  borrowed  from  one  of  his  tempters,  and 
chuckled  grimly. 

"  So  long  as  his  neck  is  not  broken,"  he  thought,  "  I  do 
not  care,"  and,  still  watching,  repeated  his  refusal  to  take 
Madge  beyond  the  rope. 

"  Then  I'll  go  alone,"  Madge  decided. 

"  I,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  "  will  go,  then,  to  the  other  end." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  T  wish,"  he  told  her,  "  to  be  as  far  off  as  is  possible, 
when  you  fall  in." 

This  frank  statement,  so  like  the  one  made  upon  Leith 


DUDDLNGSTON  LOCH  331 

Pier  in  the  autumn,  must  surely  be  a  clumsy  attempt  at  a 
joke. 

Madge  faced  him,  staring,  to  see  whether  any  smile 
contradicted  the  uncomplimentary  speech,  but  smile  there 
was  none. 

Mr.  Peters  was  closely  watching  a  somewhat  unsteady 
figure  that,  bumping  occasionally  against  some  of  the 
crowd,  was  now  half-way  across  the  ice.  No  man  can  lie 
always  and  altogether.  Rivers  had  once  been  a  skater,  of  a 
sort,  and,  braced  by  the  flask,  and  the  wish  to  show  what  he 
could  do,  was  making  a  big  effort  to  win  the  five  shillings, 
and  if  possible  the  ten. 

"  If  other  people,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  still  with  an  eye  upon 
Rivers,  "  choose  to  be  foolish  about  their  own  lives,  why 
should  I  do  anything  ?  Their  lives  are,  perhaps,  worth 
not  a  sixpence.  My  life  is  very  valuable  to  me.  I  shall 
keep  it." 

The  woman  at  his  side  had  often  expressed  her  liking  for 
frankness,  but  plain  speech  of  this  kind  was  different.  It 
was  simple  rudeness,  and,  being  angry,  she  began  to  tell 
him  so,  without  his  seeming  to  pay  any  attention. 

Rivers  had  won  his  five  shillings,  and,  unduly  elated 
thereby,  started  to  return  with  bolder  more  sweeping 
strokes.  He  took  the  edge  of  the  crowd  as  he  came,  and, 
having  no  collision,  increased  his  speed,  passing  close  by 
Mr.  Peters  and  Madge.  Then,  slackening  as  he  reached 
the  disappointed  owner  of  the  skates  and  his  friend,  he 
turned  on  to  the  outside  edge,  began  the  three,  tripped 
over  a  straw,  staggered  a  step  or  two  backward,  was  caught 
behind  the  knees  by  the  rope,  fell  over  it,  and  crashing 
through  the  ice  upon  the  other  side  of  it.  disappeared. 

In  the  rush  and  hubbub  that  followed,  Madge  clung 
frantically  to  Mr.  Peters,  imploring  him  not  to  leave  her. 
The  crowd  first  swayed  towards  the  rope,  at  the  spot  where 
Rivers,  who  had  come  to  the  surface  again,  was  floundering 


332  MR.   PETERS 

wildly  in  what  would  very  soon  be  a  death-struggle.  Then 
the  ice  cracked  loudly,  under  the  tremendous  weight  of  the 
hustling  throng,  and  the  people  scattered  in  every  direc 
tion,  lest  they,  too,  should  find  themselves  in  the  water  with 
the  choking,  struggling,  spluttering  wretch,  who  now  sank 
for  a  second  time  before  their  eyes. 

Some  tried  to  loosen  the  rope  over  which  the  man  had 
stumbled,  some  skated  down  the  ice  to  fetch  other  help,  but 
Mr.  Peters  never  stirred. 

At  first  he  laughed,  on  seeing  what  had  happened,  but 
when  the  gasping  thing  before  him  fought  so  impotently, 
he  laughed  no  more. 

He  made  no  answer  to  Madge,  but  when,  having  got  over 
the  first  sudden  fright,  she  turned  to  make  for  the  bank, 
she  found  that  he  was  leaning  one  hand  heavily  upon  her, 
and  slipping  off  his  skates  and  boots  together  with  the 
other. 

"  Xow  go  ! "  he  told  her,  roughly,  as  the  second  boot 
came  off,  and  she  went,  breathless. 

But  Mr.  Peters,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  rippling,  eddying 
water  which  covered  the  drowning  man,  ran  forward  a  few 
paces,  then  throwing  himself  on  his  face  upon  the  ice 
wriggled  to  the  edge  of  the  hole,  which  now  owing  to 
Rivers'  struggles  had  got  much  larger.  He  hoped  that 
something  would  come  within  reach  for  him  to  grip,  and 
lay  peering  intently  into  the  black  water,  while  the  crowd 
shouted  and  swayed  behind  him. 

Presently  a  hand  rose,  gripping  wildly  at  nothing,  and 
beyond  Mr.  Peters'  reach.  "Rut  the  man  who  waited  could 
wait  no  longer.  He  drew  a  deep  breath,  and,  sliding  into 
the  water  like  a  huge  seal  head  foremost,  clutched  at  the 
other's  neck.  If  he  got,  and  kept,  a  hold,  it  was  not  be 
cause  of  any  help  from  Rivers,  who  clutched  at  him  as 
only  a  drowning  man  can.  Even  when  his  head  was  above 
water,  and  Peters  was  shouting  in  his  ear  that  he  was  safe, 


DUDDINGSTON  LOCH  333 

Elvers  struggled  as  though  he  would  lift  himself  out  alto 
gether  by  rising  on  the  other,  and  once  sent  Mr.  Peters 
bodily  under  again. 

When  Mr.  Peters  rose  that  time  he  did  not  try  to  say  any 
thing,  and  his  face  was  not  pleasant  to  look  upon.  He 
gripped  Rivers  firmly  by  the  throat  with  one  hand,  and  the 
watching  crowd  saw  him  deliberately  strike  the  man  in 
the  face  with  his  other  clenched  fist. 

Some  women  shrieked,  but  Rivers  fought  no  more,  being 
insensible,  and  Mr.  Peters  held  on  to  the  edge  of  the  ice, 
silent  and  grim,  until  Tom  Dunbar,  stretching  across  a 
hurdle  and  held  by  a  rope,  shuffled  his  way  along,  and 
hauled  both  of  them  out. 


CHAPTER  XLVI 

CALLED   BACK 

SEVERAL  hours  had  now  elapsed  since  Elvers  had  been 
dragged  ashore.  As  he  lay  unconscious  in  his  bed,  he 
moaned  and  muttered  more  than  once,  lifting  a  hand  to  the 
great  bruise — Mr.  Peters'  sign-manual — that  had  risen  on 
his  right  temple. 

Where  the  thinking,  responsible  part  of  him  strayed,  in 
the  long  intervals  of  dumb  stillness,  one  would  like  to  know. 
All  one  can  be  sure  of  is  that,  when  that  part  came  back 
from  its  wandering,  it  came  back  unaltered,  and  the  first 
use  Rivers  made  of  his  recovered  faculties  was  to  ask  for 
something  to  drink. 

This  happened  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  after 
his  exploit.  At  the  querulous  sound  of  his  voice,  Mr.  Peters 
rose  from  the  fireside,  where,  by  the  light  of  a  shaded  lamp, 
he  was  playing  the  inevitable  game  of  Patience,  and,  coming 
to  the  bedside,  looked  down  upon  him. 

'  Ah  !  the  good  Rivers.    You  cannot  drown,  then  ?  " 

Rivers  stared  at  him  vacantly,  and,  with  one  hand  wan 
dering  up  to  his  aching  head  again,  asked  where  he  was. 

'  In  your  bed."  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  and  Rivers,  looking 
slowly  around,  seemed  at  last  to  recognize  things. 

r'My  head  aches  like  the  devil,"  he  said,  fretfully. 
"  Have  I  been  drinking  ?  " 

"  Quarts,"  chuckled  Mr.  Peters,  and  Rivers,  puzzling  over 
things  in  a  drowsy,  muddle-headed  way,  began  slowly  to 
remember. 


CALLED  BACK  335 

"  That  was  water,"  he  said  presently.  "  It's  lying  cold 
on  my  stomach.  Give  me  whiskey/'  and  Mr.  Peters,  making 
a  great  parade  with  the  bottle,  poured  out  a  very  small 
quantity  of  spirit,  and,  diluting  it  liberally,  let  him 
drink. 

But  Rivers  was  discontented  and  said  so,  and  Mr.  Peters 
therefore  had  to  explain  further. 

"  it  is  the  doctor's  orders,"  he  told  his  charge,  "  because 
of  your  head." 

"'  What's  wrong  ?  "  Rivers  demanded,  drowsily,  his  hand 
still  on  his  forehead. 

"  You  were  so  strong  and  so  brave,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him, 
laughing  softly  again,  "  you  wished  to  drown,  I  think.  But 
I  did  not,  so  I  hit  you." 

"'  What  a  d — d  awkward  thing  to  do,"  Rivers  muttered. 
"  Give  me  a  little  more,  anyway." 

"  Xot  a  drop,"  Mr.  Peters  declared,  not  at  all  troubled  by 
the  rescued  man's  verdict  upon  his  action.  "  I  have  pulled 
you  out  of  the  water,  my  good,  grateful  Rivers,  and  you 
shall  not  fall  into  the  whiskey.  Then  I  should  have  got  wet 
for  nothing.  Now,  sleep  !  "  and  Rivers,  finding  that  Mr. 
Peters  had  returned  to  the  fire  and  to  Patience,  and  that  he 
would  make  no  reply  to  any  question,  presently  dropped  off 
to  sleep,  and  woke  no  more  until  day  had  begun. 

All  that  time  Mr.  Peters  kept  watch  over  him,  mostly 
sitting  by  the  fire,  amusing  himself  with  the  cards,  and 
smoking  an  occasional  cigarette.  Now  and  then  he  would 
look  across  at  the  sleeper.  Twice  he  rose,  and,  crossing  the 
room  to  the  bedside,  satisfied  himself  that  his  patient  was 
doing  well.  A  more  attentive  nurse  than  Mr.  Peters  could 
not  be  desired  by  any  man.  He  trod  the  room  as  softly  as 
any  cat  could  have  done,  and  watched  the  unconscious 
Rivers  as  carefully  as  though  he  had  been  a  mouse.  But 
when  the  latter,  waking  again,  was  more  grateful,  and  de 
clared  himself  quite  recovered  except  for  a  headache,  Mr. 


336  MR.   PETERS 

Peters  watched  no  longer,  but  went  off  to  his  own  room  for  a 
nap,  contenting  himself  with  Rivers'  promise  that  he  would 
not  move  until  the  doctor  had  called — but  taking  the  whis 
key  bottle  with  him. 


CHAPTER   XLVII 

NEW   YEAR   AT   THE  TUON 

LATE  on  New  Year's  Eve,  Rivers,  somewhat  against 
the  doctor's  orders,  left  the  House  of  Residence,  and,  well 
wrapped  up  and  accompanied  by  Mr.  Peters,  went  to  see 
'Melia.  He  professed  himself  to  be  all  right  again,  except 
for  a  tenderness  where  Mr.  Peters  had  made  his  mark,  and 
was  considerably  more  profuse  in  his  thanks  than  he  had 
been  in  the  early  morning.  Mr.  Peters  took  Rivers'  expres 
sions  of  gratitude  without  any  more  enthusiasm  than  he 
had  shown  when  that  gratitude  seemed  problematical,  and 
was  not  anxious  to  call  upon  'Melia  that  night.  But  Riv 
ers  insisted,  and  so  Mr.  Peters,  shrugging  his  shoulders 
with  an  air  of  anything  but  cheerful  resignation,  yielded. 

That  night  'Melia  sat  alone  in  the  little  room  behind  the 
curtain,  and  wondered  very  much  what  fortune  the  New 
Year  was  going  to  bring,  also  what  on  earth  she  was  to  do 
with  Archie.  That  young  man  was  getting  masterful,  and, 
instead  of  holding  to  his  former  humble  declaration,  that 
he  knew  he  wasn't  half  good  enough  for  'Melia,  and  that  he 
was  sure  she  couldn't  possibly  care  for  him,  had  lately  as 
good  as  told  her  that  he  felt  certain  she  was  not  so  indiffer 
ent  as  she  pretended  to  be,  and  that  he  was  determined  to 
make  her  own  to  it  sooner  or  later.  "  Just  like  his  cheek  !  " 
'Melia  said. 

Such  is  the  incomprehensible  manner  of  man.  So  terri 
bly,  too,  are  coy  maidens  subdued  by  a  lordly  manner,  that 
'Melia,  instead  of  bidding  him  begone  and  see  her  face  no 
more,  trembled  a  little  when  he  came,  sighed  a  little  when 
he  went,  and  altogether  behaved  as  if  she  were  not  quite 
sure,  hut  what  she  liked  it  Tt  was,  at  anyrate,  difficult 
22 


338  MR.    PETERS 

to  continue  to  believe  that  Archie  was  pushing  matters  so 
far  from  a  mere  sense  of  duty,  and,  after  all,  it  was  pleasant 
to  be  woo'd  for  one's  own  sake,  and  in  spite  of  disadvan 
tages.  Still,  'Melia  was  very  vexed  with  herself  for  not 
being  inwardly  so  stubborn  as  she  seemed,  and  was  scolding 
herself  well,  at  the  moment  when  her  two  visitors  from  the 
House  of  Residence  came  in. 

Rivers  was  truly  melodramatic  in  his  greeting  that  night, 
and  introduced  Mr.  Peters  in  a  new  character,  after  em 
bracing  'Melia. 

"  My  preserver,"  he  announced,  with  a  hand  on  Mr. 
Peters'  shoulder,  and  'Melia,  being  ignorant  of  recent 
events,  and  possibly  suspecting  intoxication,  said,  "  Lor  ! 
father,  what  are  you  talkin'  about  ?  " 

"  Do  not  be  a  big  fool  !  "  suggested  Mr.  Peters,  frowning 
impatiently,  but  Rivers,  even  with  the  risk  of  an  unsympa 
thetic  audience,  was  not  to  be  denied  his  opportunity  for  a 
display. 

He  told  'Melia  the  whole  story,  with  many  details  which 
Mr.  Peters  did  not  remember,  and  described  sensations 
which  he  himself  had  never  experienced.  He  drew  a  vivid 
picture  of  the  moment  when  all  his  past  life  had  flashed 
before  him — which  it  hadn't — and  insisted  particularly 
upon  having  felt  during  his  struggles,  more  bitterly  than 
anything  else,  that  his  little  Em'ly  would  be  left  unpro 
tected.  P>y  the  time  he  had  ended,  poor  'Melia  was  in  tears, 
partly  because  she  was  an  excitable  young  person,  and  partly 
because  she  secretly  felt  that  she  must  lately  have  been  un 
just,  in  her  inmost  mind,  towards  a  parent  who  could  think 
of  her  with,  so  to  speak,  both  feet  in  a  watery  grave.  She 
came  round  the  counter,  and  did  her  best  to  secure  the  hand 
of  Mr.  Peters,  who,  however,  laughing  at  the  beginning  of 
this  dramatic  recital,  and  frowning  at  the  end,  stood  well 
away,  with  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  repulsed  'Melia's 
advances  altogether. 


NEW  YEAR  AT  THE  TRON  339 

"  This  is  what  you  call  rot  ! "  he  announced  brusquely. 
"  It  is  enough,  and  we  will  have  no  more." 

"  Well,  really,"  protested  'Melia,  wiping  her  eyes,  and 
trying  to  feel  angry  with  this  hero  who  wouldn't  be 
worshipped,  "  I  never  know  'ow  to  take  you,  Cap'n  Pe 
ters." 

'Melia's  aspirates  had  much  improved  lately,  but  they 
still  played  her  false  in  moments  of  emotion. 

"  Do  not  take  me,"  Mr.  Peters  entreated  her.  "  Leave  me 
alone,  that  is  all." 

Then,  seeing  perhaps  that  'Melia  was  really  beginning  to 
feel  hurt,  "  What  is  it  all  about  ?"  he  went  on,  less  roughly. 
"  A  wetting,  and  nothing  more  !  There  was  no  danger  for 
me.  I  could  have  let  him  go  down  to  the  mud  and  stay 
there,  could  I  not,  if  there  had  been  ;  and  you  would  still 
have  said  'thank  you  '  to  me,  for  pretending  to  try  to  fish 
him  out  ?  Come,  we  have  done  with  it  !  " 

"  I  sha'n't  forgit,  anyway,"  'Melia  declared,  "  though  I 
dare  say,  bein'  a  man,  you  don't  like  no  fuss  made.  You've 
given  me  my  Happy  Christmas  right  through,  Cap'n  Pe 
ters." 

"  That  is  it,"  Peters  declared,  as  if  struck  by  the  idea. 
"  I  have  wished  you  a  Merry  Christmas,  and  I  have  done 
my  best  for  you.  Now  we  are  quits,  as  you  call  it." 

"  No,  we  aren't,"  'Melia  declared,  warmly,  "  not  by  no 
manner  of  means.  There's  a  big  balance  on  your  side,  Cap'n 
Peters." 

"  That  is  well,"  Mr.  Peters  told  her.  "  We  will  speak  of 
it  no  more.  Good-night.  It  is  time  to  go  home  again." 

"But  this  by  no  means  pleased  the  vivacious  Rivers. 

"  Now  that  I'm  out,"  he  insisted,  "  I  mean  to  stay  out, 
and  see  the  fun,  and  wish  Em'ly  here  a  Happy  New  Year 
before  she  goes  to  bed." 

"This  is  more  humbug!"  Mr.  Peters  declared,  and 
turned  away  to  go  off  alone,  when  'Melia  stopped  him,  anx- 


340  MR.   PETERS 

ious  that  Rivers  should  have  no  excuse  for  roaming  alone 
that  night. 

"  It's  after  'leven  now,"  she  told  him.  "  Take  me  round 
to  see  some  o'  the  streets,  Cap'n  Peters,  an'  then  you  an' 
father  can  get  back  together.  Come,  now  !  my  Christmas 
isn't  done,  for  more'n  half  an  hour.  We  don't  know  where 
we'll  all  be,  by  this  time  next  year.'' 

"  That's  true,"  Rivers  agreed.  His  twenty-four  hours  in 
bed  had  made  him  lively,  and  he  was  only  regretting  Mr. 
Peters'  presence  because  Mr.  Peters  would  perhaps  limit 
his  drink,  according  to  doctor's  orders. 

'•  I'm  going  a  journey  next  year,  remember  !  "  he  added. 

"  Yes,  an'  Cap'n  Peters  goes  a  voyage,"  'Melia  reminded 
them.  "  Come  along,  Cap'n  Peters,  an'  see  the  sights  for 
once  !  "  and  Mr.  Peters  made  no  more  objections,  but  went. 

The  sights  were  not  varied  that  night,  but  they  saw  what 
there  was  to  see,  with  a  running  commentary  for  'Melia's 
benefit  from  Mr.  Peters,  who  was  in  a  very  bad  temper. 

"  You've  kep'  your  promise,  an'  more,"  she  told  him, 
softly,  as  they  went  up  the  street.  "  I  can't  thank  you 
enough,  Cap'n  Peters." 

"  My  promise  ?  "  he  told  her,  angrily,  "  I  have  made  you 
no  promise." 

"  Oh,  but  you  did,"  'Melia  insisted.  "  You  promised  me 
you'd  keep  an  eye  on  pa.  You've  done  it,  too." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  retorted  Peters,  "  if  it  is  done,  it  is 
finished,  that  is  all.  I  have  kept  my  promise,  you  say.  I 
owe  you  nothing." 

"  I  owe  you  lots,"  'Melia  declared. 

"  I  promise  you  no  more,"  Mr.  Peters  answered  loudly, 
and  then  talked  to  Rivers,  though  not  in  a  very  friendly  way. 

As  for  Rivers,  his  head  was  aching,  and  he  thought  once 
more  that  Peters  was  a  clumsy  fellow. 

What  is  the  use  of  pulling  a  man  out  of  the  water,  if  you 
pretty  well  brain  him  in  doing  so  ?  Peters  was  quite  right 


NEW  YEAR  AT  THE  TRON  341 

to  dislike  making  much  of  such  a  rough  and  tumble  affair. 
No  doubt,  as  he  had  been  frank  enough  to  admit,  he  would 
have  let  Rivers  go  quickly  enough  had  there  been  any  real 
danger  to  himself. 

Rivers  was  quickly  getting  to  think  almost  as  little  of  the 
rescue  as  Mr.  Peters  seemed  to — and  his  head  was  really 
aching  terribly. 

It  would  have  been  a  bad  job,  too,  for  Mr.  Peters,  if 
Eivers  had  drowned  himself,  and  so  had  become  incapable 
of  playing  cards,  while  still  owing  Mr.  Peters  his  revenge. 

There  was  now  a  very  tidy  little  sum  of  Mr.  Peters'  money 
in  Rivers'  bureau,  and  no  doubt  the  former  recollected  that, 
and  gave  it  due  consideration  before  he  came  to  the  rescue. 

To  know  that  this  was  one  probable  motive  made  Rivers 
feel  that,  after  all,  it  was  best,  as  Mr.  Peters  had  said,  to 
make  no  more  fuss  about  that  clumsy  exhibition  in  life- 
saving  ;  also,  that  if  Mr.  Peters,  unable  to  take  his  losses 
quietly  and  like  a  gentleman,  should  insist  upon  more  play, 
one  need  not  scruple,  from  any  silly  sense  of  gratitude,  to 
let  him  have  his  whim — and  take  his  chance. 

These  were  some  of  Rivers'  reflections  as  the  three  went 
along,  and  they  occupied  him  as  the  party  proceeded  from 
Princes  Street,  up  the  Mound  to  the  Tron  Church. 

For  where  else  should  they  go  that  night,  if  they  wished 
to  go  witli  the  crowd  ?  It  moved  thitherward  from  all 
quarters,  and  stayed  only  when  it  reached  the  open  space 
about  that  time-honored  landmark,  surging  and  swaying, 
pushing  and  reeling,  but  determined  to  be — in  honor  of  old 
custom — within  sight  of  the  Tron  clock  when  the  hands 
should  mark  midnight. 

'Melia  and  her  escort  drew  up  at  the  top  of  Cockburn 
Street,  and  Mr.  Peters,  surveying  the  mob,  classified  its 
component  parts,  as  he  pushed  between  'Melia  and  a  hospit 
able  inhabitant  of  the  High  Street,  who  flourished  a  bottle 
at  her  with  an  invitation  to  drink. 


342  MB.   PETERS 

"  Here,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  "  are  our  good  people,  here  is 
our  happy  crowd.  Here  is  t'un  !  "  and  he  laughed  as  though 
he  found  some  amusement,  while  'Melia  politely  declined 
the  offer  of  the  use  of  another  bottle. 

"  These  people,"  Mr.  Peters  went  on,  looking  about  him, 
and  able  to  see  far,  since  his  head  rose  well  above  most  of 
the  crowd,  "  these  people  are  divided  into  two  parts,  those 
who  are  drunk — and  those  who  are  drinking." 

"  That's  not  so,  Cap'n  Peters,"  said  'Melia,  indignantly. 
"  We're  not  drunk  or  drinking,  an'  we  don't  mean  to.  I'm 
sure  there's  plenty  of  quiet  folks  like  you  an'  me,  come  up 
just  to  see  things.  My  !  look  !  There's  a  man  working 
too." 

She  was  quite  right.  There  were  plenty  of  quiet  people 
among  the  crowd,  there,  like  themselves,  out  of  mere 
curiosity,  but  the  more  objectionable  were,  as  they  always 
are,  the  more  conspicuous.  There  was  also,  as  she  had 
pointed  out,  a  man  working. 

He  stood  at  a  first  floor  window  of  some  office  facing  the 
Tron,  and  worked  at  a  desk,  with  a  gas-jet  flaring  just  over 
his  head.  The  crowd  beneath  him  hummed  and  reeled. 
The  window  at  which  he  worked  was  now  and  then  opened, 
and  a  colored  light  was  pushed  out,  to  blaze  for  a  few  sec 
onds  and  die  away  without  making  the  man  look  up.  The 
clock  now  showed  less  than  five  minutes  to  the  new  year, 
but  this  man  worked  on  methodically,  as  though,  so  Mr. 
Peters  thought,  his  one  object  in  life  was  to  balance  ac 
counts. 

The  hands  of  the  Tron  clock  moved  on  towards  the  hour, 
nearer  and  nearer  ;  the  colored  "  flares  "  became  more  plen 
tiful,  the  crowd  grew  even  noisier,  with  a  continuous  roar 
like  that  of  a  heavy  sea,  but  still  the  man  at  the  first  floor 
window  worked  steadily  on,  and  still  Mr.  Peters  watched 
him. 

Presently  the  hour  was  reached,  though  one  could  only 


NEW  YEAR  AT  THE  TRON  343 

tell  it  by  looking  at  the  clock,  for  the  twelve  strokes  were 
unheard  in  the  increased  roar. 

'Melia,  seizing  Rivers  with  one  hand,  and  groping  for  Mr. 
Peters  with  the  other,  started  "  Old  Lang  Syne,"  as  she 
called  it,  but  Mr.  Peters  had  moved  a  pace  away,  and  stood 
nearer  under  the  window,  where  the  book-keeper,  with  a 
look  of  pride,  was  holding  up  a  sheet  of  figures  for  another 
to  see. 

"  You  have  balanced  your  accounts,  my  friend  !  "  shouted 
Mr.  Peters  to  the  unconscious  clerk,  "  Bravo  !  !  "  and  then 
turned  away,  to  go  down  the  street  again  with  the  scattering 
mob,  wrapped  in  his  own  thoughts,  and  quite  regardless  of 
the  good  wishes  for  the  new  year,  shouted  at  him  by  'Melia 
and  Rivers. 

That  night,  'Melia  (who  had  dreamt  almost  more  in  the 
last  three  months  than  in  all  her  previous  life)  had  pleasant 
visions  of  a  good  time  coming  ;  but  Mr.  Peters  dreamt  that 
the  man  at  the  window  came  to  him,  and  asked  why  his  ac 
counts  were  still  unbalanced. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 

QTJEM   DEUS  VULT   PERDERE 

RIVERS  was  none  the  better  for  his  little  expedition  of 
New  Year's  Eve,  and  kept  to  his  room  for  a  day  or  two  after 
it.  His  trouble,  however,  being  nothing  worse  than  a  severe 
cold,  he  could  receive  visitors — and  entertain  them.  He 
entertained  Mr.  Peters  a  great  deal,  at  that  gentleman's  ex 
pense.  For  Mr.  Peters,  fearing  apparently  lest  life  at  the 
House  of  Residence  should  be  monotonous  for  Rivers  with 
out  his  society,  quitted  the  Pentlands  for  a  time,  and  spent 
social  evenings  with  the  invalid,  and  with  the  cards. 

Fortune,  unpropitiated  by  this  self-denial,  still  went  re 
lentlessly  against  Mr.  Peters,  with  the  result  that  the  vigil 
ant  Mrs.  Jimps  determined  one  night  to  remonstrate. 

"  If  you  could  give  me  just  one  minute  this  evening, 
Captain  Peters,"  she  entreated,  smiling  down  the  table  as 
she  rose  from  dinner.  "  T  have  an  application  for  rooms, 
and  I  would  like  to  show  it  to  you,"  and  Mr.  Peters 
accordingly  presented  himself  at  her  door,  half  an  hour 
later. 

Mrs.  Jimps'  little  room  looked  very  cheerful,  and  Mrs. 
Jimps  looked  cheerful  too — more  cheerful,  indeed,  than  she 
felt.  She  motioned  Mr.  Peters,  who  did  not  seem  inclined 
to  seat  himself,  to  the  easiest  chair,  and  opened  fire  at  once, 
lest  delay  should  lead  to  cowardice. 

"  We  are  glad  to  have  you  with  us  again,  Captain  Peters. 
We  have  seen  so  little  of  you  at  the  table  lately." 

She  beamed  upon  him,  and  Mr.  Peters  bowed,  watching 
her  with  a  steadfast  stare,  which  Mrs.  Jimps  found  discon 
certing. 


QUEM  DEUS  VULT  PERDERE  345 

"  Are  you  likely  to  be  going  back  to  your  cottage  soon  ?  " 
she  asked,  and  Mr.  Peters  misunderstood  her. 

"  Do  you  wish  my  room  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Not  for  a  moment,  Captain  Peters.  I  never  thought  of 
it.  We  are  always  glad  to  see  you.  As  I  said  to  Annie 
only  yesterday  "  (Fie  !  Mrs.  Jimps,  this  is  pure  inven 
tion),  "  it  seems  so  natural  to  have  you  going  in  and  out. 
I — I've  once  or  twice  wondered  lately  whether  Mr.  Rivers 
would  be  going  soon,"  she  suggested. 

Mr.  Peters  remaining  silent  and  sphynx-like,  Mrs.  Jimps 
plunged  further,  and  made  further  calls  (heaven  forgive 
her  !)  upon  her  imagination. 

"  The  fact  is,  Captain  Peters,  you  must  excuse  me  for 
saying  that  there  has  been  a  good  deal  of  gossip,  about  Mr. 
Rivers,  just  lately.  They  say  that  he's  very  fond  of  cards, 
and — he  is  most  surprisingly  fortunate  !  " 

"  Indeed  !  "  Mr.  Peters  lifted  his  thick  black  eyebrows  in 
surprise.  "  With  whom  does  he  play  ?  " 

"  If  you  don't  know,  Captain  Peters,  then  I  don't,"  said 
Mrs.  Jimps,  hurt  at  this  want  of  confidence  ;  but  she  went 
on  bravely,  still  determined  to  save  Mr.  Peters'  money  if 
she  could. 

"  All  I  can  say  is  that,  while  a  gentleman  who  is  a  gentle 
man,  can  do  what  he  likes  in  his  own  rooms,  I  can't  let 
things  go  on  that  are  talked  about,  and  might  get  my  house 
talked  about,  besides  meaning,  perhaps,  ruin  to  the  other 
guests  who  might  be  my  friends,  if  you'll  excuse  my  saying 
so,  Captain  Peters." 

The  wording  of  this  speech  was  enigmatical,  but  Mr. 
Peters  apparently  understood,  and  first  frowned,  then  be 
gan  to  laugh. 

"  Answer  Number  One,"  he  told  her,  checking  it  off  upon 
his  fingers.  "  1  do  not  lose,  madam.  If  I  lose  to-night,  I 
win  to-morrow." 

"  I  never  mentioned  any  names,"  protested  Mrs.  Jimps, 


346  MR.   PETERS 

"  except  that  of  Mr.  Rivers,"  but  she  was  interrupt 
ed. 

"  That  is  true,"  Mr.  Peters  agreed,  "  I  do  not  accuse  you. 
Answer  Number  Two.  The  good  Rivers  will  go  in  a  few 
days,  I  think.  Do  not  say  so,  Mrs.  Jimps,  or  he  will  be 
angry,  but,  lest  he  should  be  hurried  and  forget,  you  should 
remind  him  of  that  little  account." 

"  He  does  owe  me  for  six  weeks,"  Mrs.  Jimps  admitted, 
"  and  it's  very  good  of  you  to  think  of  that,  though  I  didn't 
suppose  he'd  tell  anyone." 

"  One  may  guess,"  said  Mr.  Peters.    "  Is  that  all  ?  " 

"  Well,"  Mrs.  Jimps  told  him,  after  consideration,  "  I 
think  that's  all,  Captain  Peters,  if  you're  sure  that  you're 
not  being  deceived." 

"  And  these  good  people  who  have  talked  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Peters. 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  all  right,"  Mrs.  Jimps  assured  him, 
careless,  apparently,  of  any  possible  loss  to  Rivers.  "  They 
never  doubted  you,  Captain  Peters." 

"  Did  they  not  ?  That  is  good,"  Mr.  Peters  decided,  and 
moved  to  leave  the  room. 

With  his  hand  upon  the  door,  he  gave  her  some  further 
information. 

"  I  owe  you  nothing  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Only  just  for  the  week,  Captain  Peters,"  Mrs.  Jimps 
told  him,  "  and  I'm  never  afraid  to  leave  your  little  ac 
count." 

"  Still,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  "  I,  too,  shall  perhaps  be  leaving 
in  a  few  days.  We  will  settle  to-morrow,  up  to  then,"  and  he 
went  away,  leaving  Mrs.  Jimps  to  take  the  news  as  she  liked. 

He  went  thence  to  his  own  room,  and  there  he  found 
the  convalescent  Rivers  waiting  for  a  game. 

That  night  they  played  hard  and  played  late,  for  high 
stakes,  considering  their  purses,  and  with  heavy  bets. 
Whatever  Mr.  Peters  might  tell  Mrs.  Jimps,  his  money  was 


QUEM  DEUS  VULT  PERDERE  347 

going  fast,  and,  between  one  and  two  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing,  he  pushed  back  his  chair  and  rose  from  the  little  table, 
which  had  been  drawn  in  front  of  the  fire. 

"  It  is  done,"  he  announced  ;   "  1  have  no  more." 

"  Dear  me,  now,  you  don't  say  so,"  Rivers  lamented. 
"  I've  had  a  most  extraordinary  run  of  luck,  haven't  I  ?  " 

"  Most  extraordinary  !  "  Mr.  Peters  agreed. 

"  But  it  couldn't  last,  you  know,"  Rivers  told  him. 
"  You  really  mean  to  say  that  you're  cleaned  out  ?  " 

"  Quite,  altogether,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  who  stood  looking 
down  upon  the  winner,  and  on  the  pile  of  coins  and  Scot 
tish  bank-notes  beside  him,  without  much  sign  of  regret. 

He  seemed  rather  excited  though.  One  might  almost 
suppose  that  play  was  beginning,  instead  of  having  finished, 
and  finished  against  him.  Rivers  saw  enough  of  this  to  be 
puzzled,  and  was  puzzled  enough  to  show  it. 

"  I  will  say,"  ho  remarked,  glancing  furtively  at  Mr. 
Peters,  while  he  slowly  gathered  up  the  spoils,  "  that  I 
never  saw  any  gentleman  take  his  bad  luck  better — never." 

'"'  All  through  this  life,  my  good  Rivers,"  said  Mr.  Peters, 
sententiously,  "  one  must  pay  for  one's  little  games." 

"'  That  is  true,"  Rivers  agreed  heartily,  helping  himself 
from  the  spirit  decanter  as  he  spoke.  "  Still,  it's  deuced 
hard  lines  when  a  man's  pluck  puts  him  in  such  a  hole. 
I'm  sorry  for  you,  my  good  fellow,  indeed  I  am." 

Within  the  last  few  minutes  he  had  developed  an  air  of 
patronage  most  distinctly  offensive,  or,  perhaps  one  should 
say,  which  would  have  been  most  distinctly  offensive  to  the 
average  man. 

But  Mr.  Peters  was  apparently  not  an  average  man.  He 
had.  to  all  appearance,  not  noticed  any  change  in  the  man 
ner  of  his  guest,  and  remained  quite  unruffled.  He  didn't 
seem  likely  to  make  a  fuss  over  his  losses  ;  still,  Rivers 
felt  that  it  would  be  a  nuisance  to  have  the  fool  about  the 
place,  and  suddenly  decided  to  be  generous. 


348  MR.    PETERS 

"  Have  you  squared  up  with  the  woman  here  ?  "  he  asked, 
suddenly. 

"  What  woman  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Peters. 

"  J  imps/'  ex-plained  Rivers,  who,  with  his  pocket  full  of 
ready  money,  and  with  his  eye  upon  Archie  as  a  prospective 
son-in-law,  didn't  think  so  highly  of  Mrs.  Jimps  as  he  had 
thought  a  couple  of  months  earlier. 

"  I  owe  Mrs.  Jimps,  so  she  tells  me,  for  this  week,"  Mr. 
Peters  acknowledged.  "  What  of  that  ?  " 

"  Tell  you  what  I'll  do.  You'll  be  wanting  to  clear  out, 
of  course,  now,  and  go  to  your  little  country  residence,  or 
some  other  quiet  place  where  living's  cheaper,  won't  you  ? 
If  you're  in  a  hurry,  being  down  on  your  luck,  why,  I'll 
square  up  with  the  woman  to-morrow  for  you,  'pon  my  soul 
I  will.  You've  been  a  bit  of  a  fool,  you  know,  not  to  pay 
more  attention  to  her.  It  might  have  been  worth  board 
and  lodging  to  you,  just  now,  for  a  week  or  so,  while  you 
looked  about  you.  Still,  as  I  say,  if  you're  clearing  out  to 
morrow,  I'll  square  up  with  her  for  you,  so  as  to  make 
things  easier." 

He  looked  up  at  Mr.  Peters,  who  still  stood  by  the  table, 
and  Mr.  Peters  looked  down  at  him,  taking  time  to  consider 
before  he  answered,  as  though  the  intricacies  of  our  lan 
guage  were,  for  the  moment,  too  much  for  his  intelligence. 

"  I  shall  go  to  my  cottage  to-morrow,  in  the  afternoon," 
lie  told  Rivers,  "  and  I  will  pay  Mrs.  Jimps  before  I  go. 
Why  should  you  do  so  ?  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  thought  you  said  you  were  cleaned 
out  ?  " 

"  That  is  true,"  Mr.  Peters  admitted,  "  and,  as  I  told  you, 
my  banker  has  shown  me  that  the  money  I  gave  to  him  is 
quite  done.  But  there  is  something  more." 

"  The  deuce  there  is  !  My  dear  sir.  I'm  delighted  to  hear 
it,  really  delighted,"  and  Rivers  insisted  upon  shaking  Mr. 
Peters'  unresponsive  hand.  "'  Come  now,  this  is  good,  and 


QUEM  DEUS  VULT  PERDERB  349 

your  luck  will  turn.  I'll  play  you  for  I  0  U's.  It  isn't  as 
if  we  didn't  know  one  another.  Can  you  realize  this  '  some 
thing  more  '  easily  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  will  be  easy,"  Mr.  Peters  admitted,  "  and  I  shall 
do  so  to-morrow  morning.  But  I  will  not  play  any  more, 
having  no  money  to  show  you." 

"  Oh,  nonsense,"  protested  Rivers.  "  If  you're  going  up 
to  the  hills  again  to-morrow,  who  knows  when  you  will  be 
in  again  to  try  your  luck  ?  " 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  "  but  I  cannot  play,  ex 
cept  with  my  money  upon  the  table.  This  house  has  been 
unlucky  for  me,"  he  added,  looking  around  him  ;  "  I  do  not 
think  I  will  ever  play  here  any  more." 

"  Try  my  room,"  suggested  Eivers,  but  Mr.  Peters  de 
clined. 

"  It  is  the  house,"  he  declared.  "  I  can  feel  it.  I  will 
go  up  to  my  cottage  to-morrow,  and  play  Patience.  That  is 
a  game  I  understand.  Shall  we  say  good-night  ?  " 

Eivers  was  by  no  means  ready  to  say  good-night,  Mr. 
Peters  being  apparently  not  quite  plucked,  but  he  was  ir 
resolute,  because  of  a  new  idea  which  he  could  not,  for  the 
moment,  make  up  his  mind  to  express.  S'o,  with  a  glance 
at  the  table,  perhaps  to  make  sure  that  he  left  nothing 
behind  which  it  would  be  possible  to  carry  away,  he  went 
off  to  his  own  room. 

It  was  late  enough  now,  surely,  to  go  to  bed  if  one  meant 
to  go  at  all.  The  clocks  of  the  city  had  struck  two,  and 
Mr.  Peters'  fire  had  died  out.  But  he  did  not  seem  sleepy. 
On  the  contrary,  he  sat  in  his  easy-chair,  looking  particu 
larly  wide-awake,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  door,  and  his  big 
black  head  just  a  trifle  on  one  side,  as  though  he  listened 
for  something  or  somebody.  He  sat  thus,  quiet,  watchful, 
untiring,  for  perhaps  another  quarter  of  an  hour,  listening, 
waiting  always,  though  there  was  nothing  apparently  mov 
ing  in  the  house,  and  the  only  sound  was  that  made  by  the 


350  MB.    PETERS 

wind,  which  rattled  a  window-sash,  and,  passing  on,  whis 
tled  down  the  street.  Nevertheless,  presently  Mr.  Peters 
drew  himself  up  in  his  chair,  turning  a  little  more  towards 
the  door,  and  gripping  the  chair-arms  as  though  about  to 
rise.  He  had  at  last  caught  the  sound  of  a  door  handle 
turning  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  corridor,  and  this  was 
followed  by  a  tap  at  his  door,  and  the  return  of  Eivers. 

"  Ah,  the  good  Rivers,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Peters. 

"  What,  not  in  bed  yet  ?  "  asked  his  visitor.  "  'Pon  my 
word,  I  was  almost  ashamed  to  knock,  but  the  fact  is,  I  can't 
find  my  matches.  I've  been  tumbling  about,  until  I  thought 
I  should  break  my  neck." 

"  I  heard  you,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  and  Rivers  stared 
oddly  at  hearing  this  simple  statement. 

"  You  must  not  break  your  neck.  Here  are  matches," 
said  Mr.  Peters,  reaching  up  to  the  mantel-piece,  and  toss 
ing  a  box  on  to  the  table. 

Having  done  this,  however,  he  waited  for  further  conver 
sation,  and  presently  Rivers,  strolling  across  the  room  to 
where  Mr.  Peters  was  sitting,  unbosomed  himself. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  he  announced,  "  that  your  luck  has  taken 
the  pluck  out  of  you.  'Pon  my  word  I  a.m.  I  wish  I  knew 
what  to  do.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  help  it  though,  if  you 
won't  have  another  shot." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  'philosophically.  He 
must  have  suddenly  become  tired,  else  why,  instead  of  look 
ing  straight  at  his  visitor,  as  was  his  habit,  why  did  he 
answer  with  head  bent,  and  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  rug 
before  him  ? 

'•'  Tell  you  what  !  "  Rivers  suggested  suddenly,  "  I  ex 
pect  you're  right  in  thinking  this  house  is  unlucky  for  you. 
I've  known  of  similar  cases  before,  and — well,  I  don't  pre 
tend  to  be  more  thin-skinned  than  any  other  gentleman, 
but  I'm  cursed  if  I  care  to  take  advantage  of  a  thing  like 
that.  I'll  come  up  and  play  you  at  your  other  place  !  " 


QUEM  DEUS  VULT  PERDERE  351 

"  It  is  far,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  his  eyes  still  fixed  upon  the 
carpet.  "  You  might  lose,  you  know.  I  do  not  ask  of  you 
to  come." 

"  No,  no,  it's  my  proposal,"  Rivers  insisted.  "  After  all, 
it's  only  fair  that  I  should  lose  a  little.  Luck  will  change 
up  there,  1  daresay,  and  I'm  quite  prepared  for  it." 

u  It  will  change,  I  think,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him.  "  I  am 
glad  that  you  are  prepared." 

What  a  fool  is  a  losing  gambler  !  Eivers  laughed  secretly 
to  hear  how  this  ass,  that  had  been  so  easily  led,  now  brayed 
in  triumphant  assurance  of  a  change. 

"  There's  no  accounting  for  luck,"  he  assured  Mr.  Peters. 
"  If,  as  you  say,  you  can  raise  cash  to-morrow  morning  (not 
that  that  would  matter,  only  you  tell  me  you  won't  play 
without  it),  why,  what's  to  prevent  me  from  going  up  with 
you  in  the  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  Rivers  went  away  once 
more.  As  he  went,  he  laughed,  thinking  perhaps  that, 
though  luck  could  never  be  accounted  for,  a  practised  hand 
could  be  relied  upon  against  a  fool. 

Mr.  Peters,  too,  was  laughing  as  he  rose  from  the  easy- 
chair,  and  stretching  himself  to  his  full  height  watched  the 
retreating  figure.  For  a  long  time  he  had  laughed  very 
little.  Perhaps  he  laughed  now,  because  Rivers,  who  came 
for  matches,  had  forgotten  to  take  them  away. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

GOOD-BY 

THE  next  morning  Lucius  Moriarty,  busy  in  his  office, 
and  groaning  over  the  briskness  of  trade  and  the  consequent 
dwarfing  of  his  higher  faculties,  was  told  that  Mr.  Peters 
wished  to  see  him. 

"  Now,  this  is  kind  of  ye,"  he  declared  to  Mr.  Peters,  as 
they  shook  hands.  "  There  bein'  no  money  left  to  draw,  I 
thought,  maybe,  I'd  not  be  seein'  ye  so  soon.  How  are 
ye?" 

"  I  am  well,"  Mr.  Peters  assured  him,  "  but,  when  you  say 
there  is  no  money  left  to  draw,  you  forget  the  bag." 

"  A  kill-joy  !  "  Lucius  told  him,  shaking  his  head  mourn 
fully  at  his  visitor,  "  That's  what  ye  are,  Peters.  Do  I 
understand,  then,  that  ye've  come  for  business  purposes 
only  ?  " 

"  Not  only,"  Mr.  Peters  said,  "  but  of  that  we  will  talk 
presently.  First,  I  will  consult  you  about  the  bag." 

"  Well,  well,"  grumbled  Lucius,  going  to  the  safe,  "  this 
is  a  place  of  business,  an'  I'm  a  plain  business  man,  an'  if 
anyone  shows  bis  face  here,  begor  !  I  suppose  it's  natural 
that  he  comes  on  business.  Here's  the  bag." 

He  took  it  from  the  safe,  rather  a  large  bag,  apparently 
heavy,  and  dumped  it  down  upon  the  table.  Mr.  Peters, 
for  his  part,  took  from  his  breast-pocket  a  paper,  and 
handed  it  to  Lucius.  "  That  is  your  receipt,"  he  explained. 

"  What  next  ?  "  Lucius  asked,  looking  curiously  from  Mr. 
Peters  to  the  hag  upon  the  table.  The  bag  was  made  of 
strong  canvas,  in  no  way  remarkable  except  for  the  initials 
J.  F.,  which  stood  for  Joseph  Flinders,  and  the  number 


GOOD-BY  353 

1000,  which  could  probably  have  been  explained  only  by 
the  former  owner.  But  Mr.  Peters,  lifting  the  bag,  was 
looking  at  the  seals  of  common  red  sealing-wax,  which  lay 
across  the  string  about  its  neck,  and  Lucius  looked  too. 
What  he  saw  was  peculiar.  On  each  seal,  roughly  and  hur 
riedly  written,  it  would  seem,  with  some  sharp  point  before 
the  wax  cooled,  was  a  word,  and  Lucius  spelt  it. 

"'  S-t-a-i,  Stai  !  Begor  !  that's  a  queer  seal.  It  means 
'  Wait,'  doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  began  to  break  the  seals,  one 
after  another.  "  When  did  you  learn  Italian  ?  " 

"  I  travelled  once,"  said  Moriarty,  dismally,  "  before  this 
business  got  the  mastery  o'  me.  But  what's  the  man  doin'  ? 
That's  not  waitin',  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  have  waited  long  enough,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  and 
breaking  the  last  seal,  and  cutting  the  string,  he  quietly 
emptied  the  bag  out  on  to  the  table,  before  the  astonished 
Moriarty. 

"  It  was  a  pile  of  American  coins  that  Lucius  saw,  gold 
and  silver,  with  greenbacks  showing  here  and  there. 

"  What's  the  meanin'  of  this  ?  "  asked  Lucius. 

"  Money,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  with  a  little  shrug,  as  he 
looked  down  upon  the  pile. 

"  I've  got  eyes  in  me  head,"  retorted  Lucius,  "  I  can  see 
that  much;  but  what  d'ye  bundle  it  up  in  an  old  bag,  an' 
carry  it  round  like  that  for  ?  Ye  should  have  got  a  draft, 
man,  instead  o'  bringin'  a  weight  like  that  across  the  herrin' 
pond.  What's  the  meanin'  of  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  long  story,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  with  grave  po 
liteness,  "  and  I  must  not  interrupt  you  to  tell  it  all.  But 
this  was  money  given  to  me  long  ago,  to  be  used  for  business 
purposes  only,  and  when  I  should  have  no  more." 

"  But  what  did  ye  carry  a  lump  like  that  for  ?  " 

"  I  have  carried  a  heavier  weight  all  the  time,"  said  Mr. 
Peters,  evasively.  "  Will  you  <jet  it  changed  for  me  ?  " 


354  MB.   PETERS 

"  How  much  is  it  ?  "  asked  Lucius,  scratching  his  head, 
with  a  discontented  air,  but  Mr.  Peters  shrugged  his  shoul 
ders  again. 

"  This  is  business,"  he  suggested.  "  Count  it  ! "  and 
Lucius,  grunting,  touched  his  bell. 

"  Ask  Mr.  Cairns  to  step  this  way,"  he  told  the  junior 
clerk,  and  Mr.  Cairns,  the  cashier,  coming  in,  was  asked  to 
take  out  the  pile,  count  it,  and  be  ready  to  report  its  value 
in  coin  of  the  realm,  when  rung  for  again. 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  ye,"  Lucius  told  Mr.  Peters,  pointing 
to  a  chair  and  seating  himself  at  his  desk  as  the  door  closed 
behind  Mr.  Cairns.  "  Ye're  on  me  conscience,  more 
an'  more.  What  d'ye  mean  by  this  ?  Don't  frown, 
now  ! " 

Mr.  Peters  was  certainly  frowning  a  little.  On  being  ad 
monished,  however,  he  lowered  his  eyes,  and  proceeded 
slowly  and  laboriously  to  explain.  Sometimes  it  seemed 
almost  as  though  Mr.  Peters  was  losing  his  intimate  knowl 
edge  of  our  mother  tongue,  the  words  came  to  him  so 
slowly. 

"  I  will  be  plain,  what  you  call  frank,  with  you,"  he  said 
at  last. 

"  Right  y'are,  me  boy,"  Moriarty  told  him,  settling  back 
in  his  chair,  and  assuming  an  attitude  of  earnest  attention. 
"  Frankness  is  best,  Mr.  Peters,  I  do  assure  ye." 

"  This  business  of  mine,"  Mr.  Peters  went  on,  "  will  be,  I 
think,  arranged  to-night." 

"  Without  tli'  help  o'  the  Parliament  House  lot  ?  "  in 
quired  Lucius,  anxiously,  and  Mr.  Peters  nodded. 

"  Glory  be  !  "  ejaculated  Lucius.  "  Man,  ye're  a  smart 
chap,  divil  a  doubt,"  and  would  have  liked  to  praise  such  a 
triumph  further,  but  restrained  himself  to  hear  more. 

"  Having  settled,"  Mr.  Peters  went  on,  "  I  must  go  at 
once,  and  so  this  is  good-by." 

"Havers  !"  Lucius  told  him,  "we  can't  let  ye  go,  man. 


GOOD-BY  355 

This  business  has  been  wearin'  ye  out  these  last  three 
months.  We're  disgraced  if  ye  leave  us  in  sich  a  demora 
lized  condition." 

"  I  must  go/'  said  Mr.  Peters. 

"  Nonsense/'  protested  Moriarty,  and  then  remembered 
that  Mr.  Peters,  after  settling  his  business,  might  be  very 
short  of  cash. 

"  Leave  th'  House  o'  Eesidence,  an'  th'  Handsome 
Widdy,"  he  urged,  "  seein'  that's  your  intention  anyway,  an' 
spend  a  few  days  with  us.  We'll  have  a  young  lady  who's  a 
friend  o'  yours  to  come  in,  an'  keep  ye  from  bein'  dull," 
and  Lucius  winked  with  tremendous  slyness. 

"  It's  my  belief  she's  been  fair  dyin'  o'  love,"  he  added, 
"  since  that  little  exhibition  o'  yours  at  Duddingston.  I 
told  her  you'd  taken  to  the  cold-water  cure  in  a  hurry,  to 
put  out  the  fire  she'd  raised  in  ye.  Faith,  when  I  told  her 
that,  if  I'd  been  fated  to  be  killed  by  lightnin',  Lucius 
Moriarty  would  have  retired  from  business  that  same 
instant." 

Mr.  Peters  was  not  very  attentive.  Lucius  even  doubted 
whether  he  heard. 

"  Look  here,  Mr.  Peters,"  he  said  presently,  "  Cairns  '11 
tell  us  in  five  minutes  what  check  you  should  have  for  that 
bag,  but  that's  neither  here  nor  there.  I  don't  know  what 
you've  got  left,  of  the  cash  you've  had  already,  or  what 
you've  done  with  it,  an'  I  don't  want  to  know.  It's  not  my 
business." 

It  was  perfectly  true  that  it  was  not  his  business  to  know 
how  Mr.  Peters  spent  his  money,  but  all  the  same  he  wanted 
to  know,  being  interested  in  Mr.  Peters,  and  kindly  curious 
about  all  his  affairs.  However,  he  would  have  bitten  his 
tongue  out  sooner  than  ask,  unless  Mr.  Peters  should 
encourage  him,  and  Mr.  Peters  did  nothing  of  the 
kind.  On  the  contrary,  that  self-reliant  individual  nod 
ded  his  head  slightly,  as  if  agreeing  with  Moriarty's 


356  MR.   PETERS 

statement,  and  waited  in  silence  to  hear  what  was  coming 
next. 

"  What  I  want  to  know  is,"  continued  Lucius,  vainly  en 
deavoring  to  assume  an  off-hand,  dry,  business  air,  but  fail 
ing  utterly,  "  will  you  have  anything  to  come  an'  go  upon 
when  this  business  of  yours  is  settled  ?  " 

"  I  shall  have  enough  to  go  upon,"  Mr.  Peters  assured 
him,  and  Lucius,  to  cover  a  great  deal  of  real  regret  at  Mr. 
Peters'  departure,  and  of  anxiety  as  to  his  prospects, 
laughed  loudly  at  this  answer. 

"  Begor,  that's  good  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  '  Have  ye 
enough  to  come  and  go  upon  ?  '  says  I,  an'  '  I've  enough  to 
go  upon,  anyway,'  say  you,  as  smart  as  you  please." 

The  laughter  stopped  suddenly,  being  a  trifle  forced,  and 
Moriarty  returned  to  his  point. 

"  Here's  the  question,"  he  went  on,  "  and  remember, 
Mr.  Peters,  that  of  course  it's  a  pure  matter  of  business, 
and  you're  a  business  man,  introduced  to  me  by  another 
business  connection.  Will  there  be  enough  an'  to  spare  ? 
Because,"  and  here  Lucius  produced  a  check-book,  "  a  hun 
dred  pound,  one  way  or  the  other,  is  neither  here  nor  there 
when  you've  good  security,  and  it's  better  to  have  too  much 
than  too  little,  when  you  get  among  strangers  again.  It's  a 
matter  o'  business,  mind  you,  and  we'll  charge  a  small  per 
centage  if  you'd  like  it  so." 

Lucius  looked  across  at  Mr.  Peters  as  he  spoke,  showing  a 
face  that  was  an  absolute  guarantee  against  any  exorbitant 
usury.  Mr.  Peters  eyed  him  curiously. 

"  You  said,  '  good  security,' "  he  reminded  Lucius. 
"  What  security  could  I  give,  do  you  think  ?  "  and  Lucius 
set  all  his  fringe  of  hair  on  end  in  considering  the  matter. 

"  The  fact  is,  me  boy,  I  don't  care  what  you  can  give," 
he  finally  acknowledged.  "  You've  come  here  after  cred 
itors,  an'  hunted  'em,  an'  found  'em,  where  another  man 
might  have  let  'em  go.  Am  I  right  ?  " 


GOOD-BY  357 

"  You  are  right,"  Mr.  Peters  acknowledged,  staring  at 
him.  "  1  made  an  oath,  and  1  will  keep  it  so  far  as  1  ani 
able." 

"  There  y'are  then,"  Lucius  pointed  out.  "  You've  come 
from  the  ends  o'  the  earth  to  pay  one  debt,  not  exactly  your 
own,  if  I  understand  you,  an'  I'll  go  bail  you'd  do  as  much 
to  pay  me  a  hundred  pound  if  1  lent  it." 

"  J>y  God,  I  would,"  said  Mr.  Peters.  It  was  not  often 
that  he  showed  excitement,  but  he  seemed  to  catch  some  of 
Moriarty's  feeling,  and  said  this  loudly,  rising  from  his 
chair  as  he  spoke. 

"  Whisht,  man,  whisht  !  "  Moriarty  entreated,  "  or  the 
chaps  outside  '11  think  you're  swearin'  !  Shall  it  be  a  hun 
dred  ?  Come  now  !  " 

He  paused,  pen  in  hand,  but  Mr.  Peters  motioned  him 
to  put  it  down. 

"  I  shall,  perhaps,  get  back  a  part  of  what  I  have  spent," 
he  said,  "  but  I  will  not  forget." 

"'  No,  don't,  there's  a  good  fellow,"  Lucius  entreated, 
taking  this  as  a  promise  that  Mr.  Peters  would  reconsider 
the  offer  ;  then  he  touched  the  bell,  and  the  cashier  an 
swered  the  summons.  There  were  a  hundred  and  fifty-one 
pounds,  odd,  due  to  Mr.  Peters,  and  Lucius  made  out 
a  check  for  that  amount,  and  was  going  to  call  upon  the 
junior  clerk  to  go  and  cash  it,  when  Mr.  Peters  stopped 
him. 

"  I  go  that  way,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  let  the  boy  go,"  suggested  Lucius.  "  He'll  be 
grateful  to  ye  for  the  job.  lie  jist  sits  an'  boils  on  his  stool 
there,  till  I  give  the  young  blaggard  a  run  for  fear  he'll  turn 
Fenian,  an'  dynamite  the  whole  place." 

It  was  not  to  his  liking,  this  slipping  away  of  a  friend — 
for  so  he  considered  Mr.  Peters — without  any  preliminary 
warning,  or  opportunity  for  the  consideration  of  some  last 
words.  But  Mr.  Peters  still  refused. 


358  MR.   PETERS 

u  You'll  look  us  up  to-night,  maybe,"  suggested  Lucius. 
"  What'll  I  say  to  your  lady  friends  ?  " 

"My  kindest  remembrances  to  Miss  Moriarty,"  Mr. 
Peters  told  him,  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  ISTo  one  else  ?  "  suggested  Lucius,  taking  him  by  the 
arm  and  piloting  him  through  the  outer  office. 

"  No  one  else,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  held  out  his  hand 
again  as  he  reached  the  street ;  but  Moriarty  stepped  out 
after,  bareheaded,  letting  the  door  swing  to  behind  him. 
A  flake  or  two  of  snow  fell,  and  settled  upon  Moriarty's 
head  and  shoulders,  but  he  didn't  notice  them. 

"  Man,  I'm  sorry  to  lose  ye,"  he  admitted,  "  and  mind," 
lowering  his  voice  and  looking  behind  him  as  he  spoke,  lest 
the  door  should  swing  open,  "  it's  the  easiest  matter  in  the 
world  to  remit  to  ye,  if  that  would  be  a  convenience.  I've 
correspondents  all  the  world  over,  I  may  say.  It's  not 
straight  home  you're  going,  is  it  ?  " 

Lucius  would  have  been  surprised  to  hear  that  Mr.  Peters 
had  not  yet  considered  where  he  was  going,  and  had  looked 
no  farther,  as  yet,  than  to  the  accomplishment  of  his  busi 
ness,  but  that  was  the  truth. 

"  Perhaps  not  at  once,"  he  told  Lucius,  and  this  time 
gripped  the  fingers  of  the  latter  in  a  way  that  made  him 
wince. 

"  Man  !  ye've  still  the  divil's  own  fist,"  Lucius  told  him, 
with  a  memory  of  the  morning  of  their  first  meeting  when 
his  composition  of  poetry  was  interrupted — and  was  going 
to  add  some  appropriate  last  words  when  Mr.  Peters  turned, 
and  went  steadily  away  down  the  street.  Lucius  watched 
him  ruefully,  with  a  dim  wonderment  as  to  what  his  own 
feelings  were  in  regard  to  Mr.  Peters. 

"  These  partin's  are  the  divil's  own  trouble,"  he  mut 
tered.  "  I'm  to  be  thankful,  maybe,  that,  bein'  a  plain  man 
o'  business,  I  don't  feel  'em.  I  wonder  if  he  does." 

He  referred  to  Mr.  Peters,  but  that  individual's  broad 


GOOD-BY  359 

shoulders  had  just  disappeared  round  a  corner,  and  so  Lu 
cius,  with  a  grunt  that  might  be  a  sigh,  or  might  be  a  mere 
clearing  of  the  throat,  turned  back  into  his  office.  There 
he  kept  everyone  very  much  on  the  qui  vive  for  the  remain 
der  of  that  day,  finding  no  rest  himself,  and  being  appar 
ently  determined  that  others  should  fare  no  better. 


CHAPTER  L 

CONCERNING  A  LITTLE  ACCOUNT 

MR.  PETERS  cashed  his  check,  mostly  in  Bank  of  England 
notes  and  gold,  then  went  along  the  street,  again  consider 
ing  the  question  put  to  him  by  Moriarty. 

Where  was  he  going  after  his  business  was  ended  ?  It 
seemed  quite  natural  to  him  never  to  have  considered  this 
matter.  Indeed,  from  his  own  point  of  view,  it  was  not  his 
affair.  Mr.  Peters  was  of  no  religion,  and  would  have 
laughed,  also,  at  being  accused  of  any  superstitious  fancies, 
but  superstitious  he  was,  nevertheless.  From  the  time  that 
he  had  been  told  he  was  fatherless,  he  had  also  been  told 
that  there  was  a  task  for  him  to  perform — that  the  first 
thing  to  do,  the  first  piece  of  work  always  to  consider,  to 
live  for,  and  to  finish  as  soon  as  might  be,  shaping  his  life 
always  to  that  end,  was  work  which  no  other  man  could,  or 
would,  do  for  him.  His  mother  had  taught  him  this  thing 
religiously,  mingling  it  with  his  prayers  and  hers,  until  it 
became  his  creed,  his  one  belief,  lasting  even  after  his 
mother,  his  prayers,  and  all  other  beliefs  had  been  long 
dead.  Fate  was  his  god,  and  he  was  Fate's  servant.  He 
had  thought  no  more  of  what  he  should  do,  after  Fate  had 
used  him,  than  he  thought  of  what  would  happen  after  the 
world's  end.  Everything  would  go  well,  provided  he  only 
let  himself  be  ginded  by  circumstances,  never  hasting,  never 
tarrying.  If  he  gave  way  to  childish  impatience,  or  temper, 
or  indulgence,  then  came  trouble,  as  it  had  come  that  dark 
afternoon  in  the  Parliament  House  when  Lord  Inch  died. 
He  did  not  need  to  have  any  such  lesson  repeated.  Yet 
everything  else  being  clear  in  his  mind,  this  question  of  his 
future  movements  might  now  reasonably  be  considered,  so 


CONCERNING  A  LITTLE  ACCOUNT  361 

he  went  on  to  the  docks  and  made  inquiries  about  steamers. 
He  was  still  too  much  occupied  with  thoughts  of  the 
immediate  business  to  think,  or  even  to  care  very  greatly, 
where  he  should  go.  Anywhere  would  do,  he  felt,  out  of 
this  place,  and  free  from  its  associations.  Elsewhere  he 
could  sit  down  quietly,  a  day  or  two  hence,  and  plot  out  a 
new  life.  Still,  it  would  look  too  foolish  to  ask  merely 
what  steamer  started  first  to-morrow,  so  he  looked  at  the 
lists,  and  found  that  a  boat  would  leave  for  Amsterdam  at 
noon  on  the  following  day.  That  would  do,  he  decided, 
and  was  told  that  he  need  not  engage  a  berth  then.  He 
could  pay  on  board,  and  as  that  arrangement  suited  Mr. 
Peters  very  well,  since,  later,  when  his  mind  was  more  at 
ease  he  might  find  that  he  would  prefer  to  go  elsewhere,  he 
went  away  without  settling  anything,  taking  a  time-table  of 
boats  with  him. 

That  afternoon,  immediately  after  lunch,  Mr.  Peters 
tapped  at  the  door  of  Mrs.  Jimps'  private  room,  and  was 
told  to  come  in.  He  was  expected  by  Mrs.  Jimps,  who  con 
tinued  to  show  a  cheerful  countenance  to  the  world,  but 
who  was  inwardly  in  a  melancholy  condition,  and  had  star 
tled  "  our  Annie,"  only  that  morning,  by  acknowledging 
herself  to  be  not  so  young  as  she  had  been.  This  had  made 
a  great  impression  upon  Annie,  who  secretly  considered 
Mrs.  Jimps  a  marvel  both  in  body  and  mind,  and  led  her 
to  assure  cook,  at  the  earliest  possible  opportunity,  that  in 
her  opinion  Mrs.  Jimps  was  sick.  So  she  was,  poor  soul, 
not  in  body  but  in  mind,  and  of  a  malady  that  would  only 
provoke  laughter  if  acknowledged.  Knowing  this,  Mrs. 
Jimps  made  no  fuss,  but  smiled  like  the  Spartan  that  she 
tried  to  be,  and  held  out  the  little  account  for  which  she 
knew  Mr.  Peters  had  come. 

"  That  is  right,"  he  said,  after  looking  at  it.  "  Now  do 
me  the  favor,  Mrs.  Jimps,  to  bring  it  to  my  room  when  I 
ring." 


;562  MR.    PETERS 

Hope  springs  eternal.  Can  poor  Mrs.  Jimps  be  blamed, 
if  her  heart  fluttered  once  more  ? 

"  Would  you  prefer  to  settle  it  there,  Captain  Peters  ?  " 
she  asked,  hoping  that  nothing  in  her  voice  or  manner  be 
trayed  her. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  "  I  will  tell  you  why."  And  Mrs. 
Jimps'  left  hand  stole  upward,  and,  under  pretence  of 
searching  for  a  pin,  pressed  upon  a  throbbing  heart  which, 
she  could  almost  have  imagined,  he  must  hear. 

"  It  is  of  the  good  Rivers  that  I  would  speak,"  Mr.  Peters 
continued,  and  Mrs.  Jimps'  heart  sank  once  more. 

"  You  will  come  to  my  room,"  Mr.  Peters  told  her,  "  with 
his  account  as  well  as  mine,  and  leave  the  rest  to  me." 

"  Really,"  Mrs.  Jimps  protested,  "  this  is  too  kind  of  you, 
Captain  Peters,"  and  she  seemed  to  think  so,  else  why  did 
her  eyes  grow  moist,  quite  unnoticed  by  Mr.  Peters,  who 
was  already  moving  away. 

"  I  brought  him  here,  did  I  not  ?  "  he  asked  over  his 
shoulder.  "  Remember,  do  not  speak  of  my  leaving,  or  of 
his,"  and  then  he  went  upstairs. 

Rivers  was  in  his  own  room,  and,  being  in  extraordinarily 
high  spirits,  was  humming  a  popular  song,  very  much  out  of 
tune. 

To  him  Mr.  Peters  listened,  with  a  strange,  hard  smile, 
and  with  his  customary  patience,  standing  in  the  corridor, 
until  a  verse  ended.  Then  he  rapped,  and  Rivers  poked 
his  head  out. 

"  Come  in  to  me,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  "  and  bring  your 
big  flask.  We  must  not  go  short  of  whiskey  on  our  way  up 
the  hills." 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  "  said  Rivers  piously,  and  turned  back 
to  fetch  the  flask,  while  Mr.  Peters,  returning  to  his  own 
room,  rang  the  bell. 

The  result  of  this  simple  expedient  was  that  Rivers,  flask 
in  hand,  met  Mrs.  Jimps  in  the  corridor,  and,  thinking 


CONCERNING  A  LITTLE  ACCOUNT  36o 

more  of  his  whiskey  than  of  his  manners,  preceded  her  at 
Mr.  Peters'  door. 

"  Sit  down,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  pointing  to  a  chair, 
"  while  I  pay  my  little  account  to  Mrs.  Jimps,"  and  Rivers 
sat  down,  rather  wishing  that  he  had  not  crossed  the  path 
of  Mrs.  Jimps  while  she  was  engaged  in  debt  collecting. 
True,  he  was  in  flourishing  circumstances  just  now,  but  it 
always  went  against  the  grain  with  Rivers  to  spend  ready 
money  in  paying  debts,  and  he  decided  to  get  out  of  the 
way. 

"  Excuse  me  a  moment,"  he  said,  putting  the  flask  upon 
the  table,  and,  slipping  out,  he  went  quietly  down  the  stair, 
thinking  that  he  could  spend  the  next  quarter  of  an  hour 
seeing  'Melia,  and  make  that  an  excuse,  if  necessary. 

At  the  little  tobacconist's  shop  'Melia  greeted  him  with 
an  affection  which  he  found  rather  a  nuisance  than  other 
wise,  and  which  had  tended  to  be  more  demonstrative  since 
the  mishap  at  Duddingston. 

"  What  is  the  use,"  he  peevishly  asked  her  now,  as  he  had 
often  asked  before,  "  of  an  affectionate  manner  in  a  girl, 
when  her  poor  father  knows  her  to  be  selfishly  conceited  and 
headstrong  ?  It  is  the  merest  hypocrisy,  Em'ly,"  and  poor 
'Melia,  who  was  being  constantly  worried  by  Archie  also, 
until  she  almost  doubted  her  own  good  intentions,  felt  that 
she  must  certainly  be  an  undutiful  daughter. 

"  How's  your  cold,  father  ?  "  she  asked,  to  change  the 
subject. 

"  I  could  throw  it  off,  I  think,  if  there  weren't  so  many 
things  to  worry  me,"  said  the  aggrieved  parent. 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  pa — father  I  mean,"  'Melia  told  him 
penitently,  and  Rivers  thought  he  saw  his  chance. 

"  I'm  going  up  to  Peters'  cottage  this  afternoon,"  he  an 
nounced,  "  to  stay  the  night,  in  order  to  see  if  the  change 
will  do  me  any  good.  But  nothing  would  help  me  so  much 
as  to  find  my  Em'ly  in  a  more  dutiful  frame  of  mind." 


304  MR.   PETERS 

"  Why,  father,  it's  awful  cold  up  there,"  'Melia  objected. 
"  1  can't  think  what  Cap'n  Peters  is  thinkin'  of  to  ask 
you." 

'•  He  knows  I'm  too  much  worried  to  throw  off  anything 
here,"  Rivers  retorted  severely. 

"  Don't  go  !  "  'Melia  entreated.  "  You've  never  been 
right  since  your  wetting.  Besides,  you'll  be  at  those  cards 
again."  'Melia  knew  very  well  that  they  played,  for  Rivers 
had  spoken  of  it  once,  before  her,  when  Mr.  Peters  had 
been  lucky  for  a  night.  "  I  shall  be  thinkin'  of  you  all  the 
time,"  she  added. 

"  That,"  said  Rivers,  with  a  fine  air  of  cynicism,  "  is 
worth  risking  something  for.  I  cannot  hope  for  so  much 
unless  I  go,  I'm  quite  aware  of  that.  If  you  really  cared  for 
my  health  as  much  as  you  pretend,  Em'ly,  you'd  be  guided 
by  me,  and  I  might  stay  at  home  to  please  you." 

He  turned  towards  the  shop  door,  but  lingered  for  her 
reply.  She  knew  very  well  what  he  meant,  and  to  make 
sure  of  Archie,  he  thought,  it  would  be  worth  while  to 
drop  the  profits  of  an  evening's  play.  But  'Melia  couldn't 
make  up  her  mind  to  follow  her  own  inclination. 

"  I'll  think  about  it,"  she  told  Rivers. 

"  Come  !  yes  or  no,"  he  insisted,  seeing  her  waver. 

"  No,  not  to-night,"  'Melia  begged,  and  he  moved  out 
with  a  curse. 

"  Much  you  care  about  my  health,  or  my  life  either  !  " 
he  snarled,  and  'Melia  was  left  to  question  her  own  motives, 
more  than  ever. 

Once  out  of  the  shop,  Rivers  was  not  so  very  despairing 
after  all.  The  girl  was  certainly  beginning  to  listen  to 
reason,  he  reflected,  and  would  probably  be  more  dutiful 
the  next  time  they  met.  At  anyrate  he  had  not  wasted 
time,  since  Mrs.  Jimps  had  been  avoided. 

He  reckoned,  however,  without  Mr.  Peters,  who  called 
him  in  from  the  corridor,  and  rang  the  bell. 


CONCERNING  A  LITTLE  ACCOUNT  305 

"  You  have  come  ?  That  is  right,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him. 
"  Here  is  your  flask  full,  and  presently  we  will  go.  Have 
you  money  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Rivers  answered,  slapping  a  breast  pocket,  and 
then  pulling  out  a  bundle  of  notes.  "  Plenty,  plenty  for  the 
night,  even  if  the  luck  turns,  as,  by  Jove,  my  dear  fellow,  I 
daresay  it  will." 

"  That  is  good,"  Mr.  Peters  decided.  "  I  have  rung  for 
Mrs.  Jimps,  because  she  has  your  little  account,  and  I  told 
her  that  you  would  certainly  wish  to  pay  now." 

Had  there  been  time,  Rivers  would  have  asked  Mr.  Peters, 
in  the  most  forcible  terms  at  his  command,  what  made  him 
interfere.  But  Mrs.  Jimps,  prompt  at  the  call,  came  in 
while,  still  showing  the  notes,  he  stared  at  Mr.  Peters,  and 
there  was  no  way  of  escape  this  time,  except  with  a  fuss. 

"  You  shall  pay  for  this  to-night,  my  fine  fool,"  was 
Rivers'  inaudible  promise  to  Mr.  Peters,  as  he  counted  out 
the  money,  and  got  his  receipt  and  change  from  the  scarcely 
grateful  Mrs.  Jimps.  "  What  the  devil  made  you  do  it,  I 
wonder  ?  " 

Indeed  Mr.  Peters,  by  whatever  power  of  good  or  evil 
he  might  have  been  adjured,  would  have  found  it  hard  to 
say  why  he  had  done  this  thing.  Perhaps  there  was  a 
contemptuously  kind  feeling  for  the  hard-headed  and  soft 
hearted  Mrs.  Jimps.  Perhaps,  knowing  his  own  plans,  he 
took  a  grim  pleasure  in  tormenting  Rivers  while  that  was 
possible,  or  in  making  him  be  just  against  his  inclination. 
At  anyrate,  it  was  to  Mr.  Peters  that  Mrs.  Jimps  owed  the 
recovery  of  her  money,  and  let  us  hope  that,  somewhere,  he 
was  credited  for  the  action,  not  having  many  such  set  down 
to  his  account. 


CHAPTER  LI 

A  DREAM  AND   ITS  CONSEQUENCES 

THAT  evening,  in  the  little  room  behind  the  shop,  'Melia, 
after  crying  all  by  herself  over  her  troubles  and  Kivers'  re 
proaches,  dozed  off  upon  the  red  settee.  She  had  slept 
badly  of  late,  and  had  fallen  into  the  trick  of  taking  irregu 
lar  snatches  of  sleep  during  her  less  busy  times,  to  make  up 
for  bad  nights,  and  of  sipping  extra  cups  of  tea,  which,  in 
the  end,  were  not  satisfactory,  for  they  neither  cheered  nor 
inebriated.  As  she  had  her  father  very  much  upon  her 
mind,  there  was  no  supernatural  agency  necessary,  one 
would  suppose,  to  make  her  dream  of  him.  Perhaps  the 
extra  cups  of  tea  would  account  for  the  fact  that  'Melia's 
dreams  were  not  pleasant  ones.  She  dreamt  that  she  was 
among  the  whispering  Scotch  firs  of  which  Mr.  Peters  had 
told  her,  and  which  she  had  seen  for  herself,  behind  his 
cottage,  when  she  was  there.  Now  she  tried  to  make  her 
way  through  them,  for  Rivers  was  calling  to  her,  and,  as 
she  listened,  the  call  became  a  long,  mournful  shriek  ;  but, 
whichever  way  she  turned,  a  whispering  tree  sprang  up,  or 
fell  before  her.  She  could  hear  quite  well  what  they  said. 
They  whispered,  laughing  hoarsely,  every  one  of  them,  that 
Mr.  Peters  and  her  father  were  at  the  cards  again.  They 
had  both  lost,  the  trees  said,  which  'Melia,  with  the  brain 
of  a  dreamer,  didn't  think  strange.  Now — so  one  whisperer 
told  the  other,  leaning  across  above  her  head — they  were 
playing  for  their  own  souls,  and  would  both  lose  again. 

All  tins  time  her  father  was  crying  for  her,  and  'Melia, 
trying  to  cry  back  that  she  was  coming,  turned  this  way 
and  that,  and  all  this  time  the  trees  laughed  and  whispered, 


A   DREAM   AND   ITS  CONSEQUENCES  307 

and  rose  and  fell  before  her,  until  at  last  one  seemed  to 
catch  and  crush  her,  and  she  woke  with  a  scream.  She  was 
still  alone,  of  course,  in  the  little  back  room  ;  the  shop  was 
quiet  and  empty  ;  and  when  'Melia,  trembling  a  little,  went 
and  looked  out  at  the  shop-door  into  the  still,  frosty  night, 
feeling  as  though  she  would  like  company,  a  whistling, 
shouting  boy  went  past,  whose  noise,  as  he  came,  had  quite 
possibly  started  the  dream. 

"  You  baby  !  "  said  'Melia,  angrily,  to  herself,  and  looked 
at  the  time.  It  was  a  quarter  to  ten,  and  by  Moriarty's 
latest  instructions  she  now  closed  the  shop  at  ten  o'clock. 

She  moved  here  and  there,  giving  fresh  water  to  some 
violets,  and  taking  out  the  cash  from  the  till  to  carry  home, 
as  had  been  her  custom  since  there  began  to  be  anything 
worth  carrying.  But,  all  the  while,  the  dream-fancies  clung 
to  her,  and  gave  her  no  peace.  The  clocks  of  the  city  struck 
the  hour,  and  'Melia  locked  up  the  place  and  went  away 
down  the  hill.  As  she  went,  alternately  shivering  over  this 
stupid  dream  and  scolding  herself  for  doing  so,  she  was 
followed.  Archie,  who  practically  believed  that  all  the  male 
portion  of  Edinburgh's  population — the  marriageable  at 
anyrate — was  capable  of  entering  into  conspiracy  against 
his  peace  of  mind,  had  lately  made  it  his  practice  to  watch 
her  go  home,  clenching  his  fists  whenever,  as  sometimes  hap 
pened,  some  profane  fellow,  instead  of  shielding  his  eyes  on 
'Melia's  approach,  turned  as  she  passed  him  and  looked  after 
her.  Archie  could  not  go  by  her  side,  for  'Melia  had  forbid 
den  that,  but  a  fellow,  so  he  told  himself,  could  stroll  where 
he  chose  and  when  he  chose  along  the  public  streets,  so 
he  made  no  complaint,  but  watched  over  'Melia's  safety 
secretly  and  in  silence. 

Then,  as  she  went,  a  harebrained  scheme  gradually 
shaped  itself  in  'Melia's  silly  head. 

"  If  I'd  promised  to  think  carefully  over  what  he  wants," 
she  told  herself,  "  he'd  'ave  stayed  by  the  fire  this  afternoon, 


368  MR.   PETERS 

instead  o'  trampin'  over  those  beastly  hills.  What  on  earth 
made  me  dream  such  foolishness,  1  wonder  ?  "  and  she 
shivered  again  as  she  went. 

"  If  I  even  got  out  there  now,"  her  thoughts  ran  on,  "  an' 
told  him  I'd  come  to  say  I'd  really  try  hard  to  please  him, 
why,  1  don't  b'lieve  he'd  be  very  angry,  and  'twould  ease  my 
mind.  I  sha'n't  sleep  a  wink  to-night,  for  fear  of  another 
dream  like  that.  I  couldn't  stand  two  such.  I  should  die.'"' 

This  was  her  conviction,  and  not  a  pleasant  one  with 
which  to  face  the  night.  "  I  won't  go  to  bed,"  she  decided. 
"  I'll  ask  Mrs.  Meiklejohn  to  let  me  keep  a  bit  of  fire  in,  and 
I'll  sit  up  and  read.  If  I'd  only  a  bike  I  could  call  my  own, 
I'd  go  for  a  ride,  an'  folks  might  say  what  they  liked.  Ten 
to  one  they'd  never  know,"  and,  with  that,  a  fresh  notion 
flashed  into  her  busy  mind,  and  caused  her  to  bring  her 
teeth  together  with  a  snap. 

If  only  she  made  up  her  mind,  she  thought,  to  do  as 
Kivers  demanded,  and  as  Archie  implored,  with  no  more 
fuss,  then  she  could  use  the  bicycle  that  Archie  had  refused 
to  take  back,  and,  since  sleep  was  not  to  be  thought  of,  she 
could  ride  it  anywhere  she  chose — even  to  the  Pentlands. 

'Melia  looked  up  at  the  sky.  It  was  cloudless,  and  the 
moon  shone  brightly  overhead.  She  felt  the  nipping  air 
upon  her  face,  and  looked  at  the  ground.  It  was  freezing. 
A  little  snow  that  had  fallen  was  thin  and  powdery — scarcely 
thawing  now,  even  in  the  streets.  Once  beyond  the  houses, 
spinning  along  on  the  moonlit  lonely  road,  how  quickly  one 
would  get  past  Colinton.  Then  the  bicycle  could  easily  be 
hidden  among  the  trees  at  the  foot  of  the  hills,  and  the  walk 
up  to  the  cottage  would  be  nothing.  Father  wouldn't  be 
very  angry,  and  how  Mr.  Peters  would  laugh  !  In  town  they 
never  went  to  bed  before  twelve,  and  she'd  be  there  not 
much  after  if  she  looked  sharp.  If  only  she  could  use  that 
bicycle — but  then  she  couldn't,  it  wasn't  hers  to  use,  and  to 
go  riding  out  at  this  time  of  night,  on  a  bicycle  that  didn't 


A   DREAM   AND   ITS  CONSEQUENCES  369 

belong  to  her,  to  a  place  where  perhaps  she  wasn't  wanted, 
just  because  of  a  silly  dream — it  was  too  absurd. 

"  You  silly  fool,"  she  said  out  aloud,  "  you'll  do  no  such 
thing,"  and  then  and  there  a  trivial  thing  happened  which 
sent  her  hurrying  along  well  ahead  of  the  astounded  Archie, 
to  do,  as  quickly  as  possible,  the  very  thing  she  had  just 
scoffed  at. 

It  was  only  a  dog  that  had  lost  his  master.  The  poor 
beast  stood  out  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  with  his  tail 
tucked  in  between  his  legs,  his  head  lifted  to  the  sky,  and 
howled  of  his  loss  to  an  unsympathetic  world.  But,  to  the 
startled  'Melia,  her  nerves  already  in  a  jangling  state  of 
discord,  it  was  Rivers'  voice  again  calling  her  to  come,  and 
even  as  she  saw  the  cause  and  laughed  out  hysterically  at 
it,  her  feet  flew  faster  down  the  street.  Doesn't  everybody 
know — 'Melia  thought,  gasping — that  dogs  see  more  than 
we  do,  and  howl  to  warn  us  ?  She  reached  her  door  breath 
less,  and  slipping  into  the  silent  house,  crept  up  the  stair, 
and  then,  changing  her  dress,  wheeled  the  bicycle  out 
swiftly.  Silly  or  no,  welcome  or  no,  wrong  or  no,  she 
would  get  up  to  the  cottage  that  night,  to  be  laughed  at 
or  scolded  as  might  be,  and  afterwards  she  would  confess 
to  Archie,  and  take  the  consequences. 

Archie,  however,  came  first  on  the  programme,  for,  fol 
lowing  her  to  her  door,  he  had  lounged  about  as  usual  for  a 
few  minutes,  watching  the  light  in  her  window,  as  has  been 
done  by  many  young  men  at  many  windows  before.  The 
result  was  that,  as  she  brought  out  the  bicycle,  coming 
quickly  and  quietly  lest  her  landlady  should  hear  her  and 
ask  questions,  he  was  the  first  person  she  met. 

"  My  !  "  said  poor  'Melia,  and  had  nothing  ready  to  add 
to  this  expression  of  her  astonishment. 

"  Where  on  earth  -  — ?  "  Archie  began,  equally  startled, 
and  then  stopped,  facing  'Melia's  defiant  glare  in  silence. 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  to  see  you're  using  the  thing,"  he  added 


370  MR.    PETERS 

presently,  "  but  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  be  going  out 

now." 

"  I've  not  used  it  before — after  the  first  day,"  'Melia 
declared,  hurriedly.  "  I'd  have  told  if  I  had." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  Archie  assured  her,  still  staring, 
and  'Melia  felt  bound  to  explain  further. 

"  I've  got  to  go  somewhere  to-night,"  she  told  him,  "  at 
least,  I  feel  as  if  1  must,  and  I  can't  go  no  other  way." 

"  Where  on  earth  -  — ?  "  Archie  repeated,  returning  to, 
and  stopping  at,  the  point  at  which  lie  began. 

"  It's  the  Pentlands,"  'Melia  told  him  bravely,  but  in 
such  a  low  voice  that  Archie  said  "  What  ?  "  loudly,  and 
she  had  to  say  it  over  again. 

u  Oh,  nonsense  !  "  he  declared,  when  really  sure  that  he 
understood,  "  you  mustn't  do  anything  of  the  kind.  You 
can't  mean  it." 

"  I  do.  I  must,"  said  poor  'Melia.  "  I'm  not  such  a 
fool  as  I  look,  Mr.  Inch.  I  must  go." 

"  What  for  ?  "  demanded  Archie,  wondering  whether  she 
could  be  ill.  To  do  him  justice,  he  was  not  so  foolish  as 
to  suspect  anything  underhand  in  this  harebrained  expe 
dition. 

"  Don't  ask  me,  Mr.  Inch,"  'Melia  implored.  "  It's  too 
silly,  I  know,"  which  didn't  exactly  square  with  her  last 
statement  that  she  was  not  such  a  fool  as  she  looked. 
"  Father's  up  there  with  Cap'n  Peters,"  she  added. 

"  Does  he  know  you're  coming  ?  "  demanded  Archie,  and 
'Melia  had  to  say  that  Rivers  didn't  know,  and  added,  to 
herself,  that  she  wished  she  knew  what  he'd  say  when  he 
did  know. 

"  This  is  too  silly,"  Archie  declared  at  last,  kicking  vi 
ciously  at  a  curb-stone.  "  Come,  give  it  up  and  go  to 
bed,"  but  poor  'Melia  grew  more  excited  at  the  idea  of 
giving  it  up,  and  also  more  obstinate. 

"I  can't,  I  can't,"  she  declared.     "The  bike's  yours, 


A  DREAM  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES  371 

Mr.  Inch,  and  if  you  choose  to  take  it  away,  why,  of  course, 

1  can't  stop  you.  But  short  of  that  !  "  and  'Melia 

looked  determination  personified. 

"  I've  a  jolly  good  mind  to,"  muttered  Archie.  "  I  can't 
make  out  what  you're  driving  at,  blest  if  I  can.  D'you 
really  mean  it,  honor  bright  ?  Must  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  must,  Mr.  Inch,  and  please  don't  keep  me  waiting 
any  longer." 

"  Very  well,"  Archie  told  her,  without  any  further  ob 
jection,  "  I'll  come  too,"  and  he  turned  and  began  walking 
up  the  road  again  as  if  the  whole  thing  were  settled. 

It  was  of  no  use  for  the  startled  'Melia  to  raise  this  and 
that  objection.  He  was  restless  too,  he  said.  As  for  their 
going  together,  that  was  a  great  deal  better  than  for  her  to 
go  alone.  They  would  cross  up  by  the  house  in  Drums- 
heugh  Gardens,  which  he  had  not  yet  left,  and  she  should 
wait  at  a  quiet  corner  where  she  wouldn't  be  noticed,  while 
he  fetched  his  bicycle.  'Melia  scolded  and  implored,  all 
to  no  purpose.  Go  he  would,  "  or  I'll  take  away  your  bike, 
and  you  sha'n't  go,"  he  added,  as  the  one  alternative,  and 
'Melia,  resisting  no  more,  found  herself  twenty  minutes 
later  slipping  away  through  the  quieter  streets  with  Archie 
at  her  side. 


CHAPTER  LII 

A   WILD   GOOSE   CHASE 

NEVER,  even  in  the  golden  days  of  the  good  King  Ar 
thur,  had  any  knight  ridden  forth  to  guard  an  errant  dam- 
ozel  with  greater  pride  in  his  mission  than  Archie  Inch 
felt  as  he  went  through  the  streets  of  Edinburgh  that  frosty 
night,  with  the  madcap  'Melia.  Between  poor  Archie  and 
the  knights  of  old,  there  appeared,  however,  to  be  an  im 
portant  difference  in  at  least  one  respect.  According  to 
Sir  Thomas  Malory  and  other  chroniclers  of  chivalry,  these 
gentlemen  of  ancient  days  were  frequently  not  only  daring 
and  courteous,  but  also  eloquent,  not  to  say  long-winded, 
when  at  a  lady's  feet  or  by  her  side.  Archie,  alas  !  grew 
curt  of  speech,  and  gruff  in  demeanor  as  the  houses  became 
fewer  and  the  road  more  lonely,  scarcely  speaking  except 
of  the  road  they  should  take.  He  brought  'Melia  round  by 
quiet  streets,  across  the  Haymarket  and  past  Merchiston 
Station,  and  snapped  at  her  when  she  bent  away  to  the 
right  just  afterwards. 

"  Wbere  are  you  going  now  ?  "  he  demanded,  crossly. 

"Out  Colinton  way,  of  course,"  'Melia  called  over  her 
shoulder,  wobbling  dangerously  as  she  tried  to  look  back  at 
him. 

"  Oh,  rubbish  !  "  was  his  gruff  criticism.  "  Come  back," 
and  'Melia  came  back  meekly,  explaining,  when  they  were 
side  by  side  again,  that  she  knew  of  no  other  way. 

"  You'd  have  more  than  an  hour's  climb,"  Archie 
deigned  to  point  out,  "and  the  snow  will  be  lying  thick 
between  the  hills.  Come  away  by  Morningside  ;  we  shall 


A  WILD  GOOSE  CHASE  373 

get  a  lot  closer  with  the  bikes  that  way  on  a  frosty  night 
like  this." 

What  he  thought  was  that  Morningside,  being  the  Asy 
lum  of  Edinburgh,  ought,  properly  speaking,  to  receive 
them  both  for  the  night,  but  'Melia  was  now  so  humble 
that  he  kept  this  idea  to  himself,  and  they  whirled  down 
the  Morningside  hill,  and  began  to  skirt  the  Braids  in  si 
lence. 

'Melia,  being  fairly  started  upon  the  journey,  and  past  all 
thought  of  retreat,  could  now  safely  give  herself  up  to 
gloomy  reflections  upon  her  own  foolishness,  and  the  prob 
able  reception  awaiting  her. 

"  Jolly  night,"  Archie  told  her,  severely,  as  they  walked 
up  a  steep  bit  of  road.  "  Moonlight's  jolly,  isn't  it  ?  " 

The  white  road  stretched  out  before  them  in  the  moon 
light,  thinly  sprinkled  with  the  snow  that  lay,  too,  on  the 
silent  Braid  hills.  'Melia,  in  the  most  melancholy  voice, 
agreed  that  it  was  jolly. 

"  Not  half  a  bad  notion  of  yours  after  all,"  Archie  al 
lowed. 

"  You  ought  to  be  in  your  bed,  Mr.  Inch,"  said  'Melia, 
gloomily.  But  Archie,  whom  love  was  educating,  refrained 
from  an  obvious  retort,  and  went  on  in  silence. 

He  would  have  talked  more  freely  if  he  had  felt  less.  As 
it  was,  there  being  only  one  matter  worthy  of  conversation, 
he  could  say  little,  that  subject  being,  in  his  opinion,  at 
present  impossible. 

"  A  fellow  can't  pretend  to  look  after  a  girl,  and  then 
worry  her  about  his  own  feelings,  when  she  can't  shut  him 
up,"  Archie  decided,  and  his  conversation  grew  monosyl 
labic,  while  his  spirits  sank  as  the  two  neared  their 
journey's  end.  'Melia,  for  her  part,  didn't  understand  this 
dumb  service.  It  seemed  hard  that,  at  the  very  moment 
she  started  forth  to  take  her  first  step  towards  surrender, 
Archie  should  suddenly  grow  cold.  What  could  she  say  on 


374  MR.    PETERS 

reaching  the  cottage,  with  this  sulky  squire  dragged  at  her 
heels  ? 

"  1  believe  you're  sorry  you've  come,"  sighed  'Melia. 

"  Not  if  you  aren't,"  Archie  told  her,  and  'Melia  thought 
there  was  sarcasm  in  his  voice,  and  meditated  thereon. 

"  PYaps  I  am,"  she  decided,  suddenly  stopping  and 
jumping  off,  "  I  don't  know  that  it's  any  good  going  on." 

Archie,  who  had  dismounted  a  few  yards  ahead,  having 
been  unprepared  for  this  sudden  change  of  front,  now  came 
back,  staring  to  see  what  the  moonlight  would  show  him  in 
explanation. 

"If  it's  no  good  going  on,  what  was  the  good  of  start- 
ing?" 

"  No  good,  I  suppose,"  'Melia  allowed,  "  only  I  didn't 
know." 

"  You  can't  know  more  now  than  you  did  then,"  Archie 
told  her,  stubbornly.  "  You  haven't  seen  anybody." 

"  Haven't  I  ?  I've  seen  you,"  was  'Melia's  enigmatic- 
rejoinder,  and,  refusing  to  face  Archie,  she  stared  down  the 
moonlight  road,  wishing  she  could  get  away  and  cry  by 
herself. 

"Look  here,  Mr.  Inch,"  she  told  him  presently.  "I 
want  to  go  on,  but  you  must  go  back.  You  can't  come  any 
farther." 

"  I'm  going  if  you  are." 

"  I  must,"  'Melia  told  him.  "  I'm  silly  about  father,  but 
there'll  be  a  fuss,  I  daresay,  and  it's  no  good  your  being 
there  now." 

:'  Now  !    What  d'you  mean  by  now  ?  "  demanded  Archie. 

''  The  fact  is — well.  T  was  goin'  to  speak  about  you,  and 
now  (here's  nothing  to  say.  I'll  make  up  another  story, 
that's  all." 

"  What  were  you  going  to  say  about  me  ?  "  demanded 
Archie,  staring  more  than  ever,  and  coming  as  close  as 
the  bicycle  he  held  would  allow. 


A  WILD  GOOSE  CHASE  373 

"  Well,"  said  'Melia,  in  a  weak  voice  that  she  tried  to 
make  hard  and  matter-of-fact,  "  there  was  a  bit  of  a  fuss 
about  you  to-day,  and  I  was  goin'  up  to  say  I'd  think  about 
it,  an'  try  to  please  you  both.  But  it's  no  fault  o'  yours  that 
you've  got  sick  of  hangin'  about,  Mr.  Inch,  as  I  see  you 
have  by  your  ways  to-night,  an'  1  don't  wonder  at  it.  Still, 
father's  on  my  mind,  so  please  go  back,  and  thank  you  for 
coming  so  far,  and  I'll  go  on  and  tell  him  something  else 
that'll  do,  if  I  may  keep  this  bike  till  to-morrow,  now  we're 
here." 

It  was  a  long  speech  that,  and  TVIelia  panted  when  she 
had  come  to  the  end.  Archie  heard  it  patiently,  and  said 
nothing  when  she  had  finished,  so  'Melia,  who  was  afraid 
that  she  would  presently  make  an  exhibition  of  her  feelings 
if  she  stayed  there  much  longer,  said  "  good-night "  and 
"  thank  you  "  once  more  ;  then,  mounting  as  well  as  she 
could,  rode  on  alone. 

"  It's  all  right,"  she  assured  herself  as  she  went.  "  I 
don't  mind  a  bit.  'Twasn't  natural  for  him  to  care  for  me 
long.  If  it  had  been  a  lady,  I  s'pose  she'd  have  spoken 
nicer,  an'  done  it  better  altogether  just  now,  but  I  can't  do 
no  better  than  I've  been  taught.  It's  done  anyhow,  that's 
a  blessing." 

A  blessing  it  might  be,  but  the  blessing  was  so  much  in 
disguise,  that,  after  getting  round  the  first  curve  in  the 
road,  'Melia  found  she  couldn't  see  to  steer,  and  jumped 
off  hurriedly  to  avoid  falling,  and  to  wipe  her  eyes. 

"It's  best  so,"  'Melia  repeated,  using  her  handkerchief 
viciously.  "  I'll  be  up  there  alone  in  no  time." 

"  No,  you  won't,"  said  Archie,  at  her  elbow.  "  You  don't 
know  the  way.  I'm  coming  too,  'Melia  " — and  he  went. 


CHAPTER  LIII 

MR.  PETERS   WINS   AND    LOSES 

AT  about  half-past  twelve  that  night,  all  was  very  quiet 
and  still  upon  the  hillside.  The  whispering  firs,  of  which 
'Melia  had  dreamt,  were  so  perfectly  motionless  in  the 
bright  moonlight  that  she  could  have  thought  they  had 
stopped  their  whispering  to  listen.  When  the  moon  rose 
they  had  ceased  talking.  They  had  thrown  out  upon  the 
snow  long  feelers  of  black  shadow  that,  creeping  on  as  the 
moon  went  her  way,  gradually  touched  the  cottage.  One 
could  have  thought  that  the  stiff  fir-trees,  themselves,  were 
crowding  silently  down  the  white  hillside  to  hear  what  was 
going  on  in  the  cottage. 

Inside  the  cottage  it  was  neither  cold  nor  quiet.  Mr. 
Peters  and  his  guest  sat  in  that  one,  of  the  two  rooms, 
which  served  as  kitchen  and  dining-room.  They  had  a  big 
fire,  a  kettle  sang  upon  the  hob,  toddy  steamed  upon  the 
table  at  each  man's  elbow,  and  Rivers  chattered  persist 
ently. 

But  Mr.  Peters  seemed  disinclined  for  conversation,  and 
it  was  curious  that  he  should  be  the  dull,  silent  player, 
while  Kivers  laughed  and  talked,  loudly  and  continuously, 
for  Mr.  Peters  had,  with  occasional  small  changes  of  fort 
une,  been  winning  all  the  evening. 

'  Ton  my  soul,"  expostulated  "Rivers,  cheerful  in  ad 
versity,  as  is  expected  of  the  virtuous,  "  you  don't  seem  to 
like  winning.  It  doesn't  agree  with  you,  my  dear  Peters." 

"  It  is  all  the  same  to  me,"  returned  Mr.  Peters,  dealing 
the  cards,  and  at  the  same  time  looking  at  his  watch,  which 
lay  upon  the  table. 

"  I've  known  you  much  bettor  company  when  all  the  luck 


MR.   PETERS  WINS  AND  LOSES  377 

was  coming  my  way/'  Elvers  grumbled,  with  a  glance  at  the 
pile  of  notes  and  coin  opposite.  "  Come  now,  I  wonder  if 
you'd  change  if  the  cards  did.  I  begin  to  feel  as  though  I 
might  win  yet." 

What  marvellous  intuition  some  men  possess  !  It  is 
greatly  developed,  one  is  told,  by  asceticism.  Kivers  won 
the  next  deal,  and  Mr.  Peters  threw  down  the  cards. 

"  It  is  time  to  stop  and  have  a  little  talk,"  he  announced, 
rising  from  his  chair,  and  moving  to  the  fire. 

Now,  if  those  listening  fir-trees  heard  at  all,  surely,  at 
that  moment,  they  held  their  breath,  craning  in  the  cold 
moonlight  over  one  another's  shoulders.  Kivers  looked  up 
from  his  seat  at  the  table,  frowning  darkly. 

"  Afraid  to  lose  ?  " 

"  No,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him.  "  I  cannot  lose  to-night," 
but  the  words  were  scarcely  out  of  his  mouth  before  he  felt 
that  loss  was  threatening,  and  ill-luck  at  his  very  door. 

He  listened,  motionless,  holding  his  breath  and  clenching 
his  hands,  while  Kivers,  desperate  at  the  thought  of  having, 
to  no  purpose,  allowed  luck  to  be  so  long  against  himself, 
pointed  out  that,  among  gentlemen  and  men  of  honor,  a 
night  of  it  meant  a  night  of  it — not  a  throwing  down  of  the 
cards  directly  luck  turned. 

No  doubt  his  argument  was  strong.  He  could  not  see  its 
effect  by  his  host's  face,  for  that  was  now  turned  away,  but 
Mr.  Peters'  next  words  were  sufficient  proof  of  his  convic 
tion. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said,  "  we  must  play  again,"  and,  be 
fore  Rivers,  recovering  his  good-humor,  could  invite  him 
back  to  the  table,  there  came  a  rap  at  the  door,  and  the 
sound  of  voices  outside. 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  two  men  that,  while  Rivers, 
starting  in  his  chair,  swore  loudly,  and  made  some  coins 
jingle  by  bringing  his  fist  down  heavily  upon  the  table,  Mr. 
Peters  stood  quietly  staring  at  him,  and  said  nothing. 


378  MR.   PETERS 

"  Who's  that  ?  "  Elvers  asked,  adding  a  curse  for  them, 
whoever  they  might  be. 

But  Mr.  Peters  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  moved  to 
ward  the  door.  He  knew,  at  anyrate,  one  of  the  voices, 
and  if  ever  his  belief  in  an  inexorable  fate  wavered,  it  wav 
ered  then.  Whoever  was  there  was  impatient,  or  else,  as 
might  well  be,  Mr.  Peters  had  hesitated  longer,  before  re 
plying,  than  he  supposed,  for  the  knocking  was  repeated  be 
fore  he  could  open  the  door — to  let  in  'Melia,  followed  by 
Archie. 

'Melia  stood,  flushed  with  her  climb  and  excitement,  the 
lamplight  showing  the  color  in  lip  and  cheek  and  red-gold 
hair  against  the  background  of  the  outside  shadow.  What 
ever  was  thought  by  Mr.  Peters  and  her  father,  Archie  felt 
proud  as  he  looked  at  her. 

"  What's  this,  Em'ly  ?  "  Rivers  demanded,  staring  from 
one  to  the  other,  and,  probably  for  the  first  time  since 
childhood,  'Melia,  laughing  and  blushing,  let  someone  else 
answer  for  her,  and  turned  to  Archie  for  words. 

He,  poor  fellow,  had  been  eloquent  enough  in  the  last 
half-hour,  but  now  words  seemed  difficult. 

"  The  fact  is,"  he  stammered  presently,  "  we  understand 
one  another  now,  and  'Melia — that  is — we  thought  you 
ought  to  know." 

"  Two  of  your  geese,  Cap'n  Peters,"  'Melia  chimed  in, 
with  something  nearer  shyness,  in  voice  and  manner,  than 
she  had  ever  shown  to  Mr.  Peters  before.  "  You  told  me 
you  heard  'em  some  nights,  you  know.  Now,  here's  a  pair 
of  'em." 

What  thoughts  were  in  Mr.  Peters'  mind  it  was  impos 
sible  to  tell.  His  lips  kept  together,  his  eyes  roved  from 
'Melia  to  Rivers,  from  Rivers  to  Archie,  and  back  again, 
restless  and  incomprehensible. 

All  three  were  affected  by  those  restless  eyes,  all  differ 
ently,  none  knowing  why.  Archie  felt  an  unreasonable 


MR  PETERS  WINS  AND  LOSES  379 

wrath  begin  to  stir  him,  and  stared  back,  drawing  closer  to 
'Melia,  who  skivered  a  little,  almost  without  knowing  that 
she  did  so.  Eivers  fidgeted  on  the  chair,  from  which  he 
had  started  for  a  moment  as  they  came  in.  He  was  vexed 
at  the  interruption,  in  spite  of  the  news.  Given  another 
hour  or  two,  with  bigger  stakes,  he  had  intended  his  cash 
to  come  back,  with  that  of  his  host  to  keep  it  company. 
The  news  was  all  very  well,  but  he  had  known,  he  thought, 
that  it  must  come  soon,  and  it  might  just  as  well  have  been 
told  a  day  later.  As  it  was,  here  was  Peters  most  devilish 
vexed,  so  Rivers  told  himself,  and  everything  upset  by  a 
couple  of  silly  fools. 

"  Well,"  he  told  'Melia,  fretfully,  at  last,  twisting  in  his 
chair  and  looking  apologetically  at  Mr.  Peters  as  he  spoke, 
"  this  is  very  nice,  of  course,  and  all  that,  and  it's  quite 
proper  that  I  should  know  of  it.  But  your  way  of  coming 
to  tell  me  is — well,  in  fact  it's  dev'lish  improper,  'pon  my 
word  it  is,  Em'ly.  Then,  what  on  earth  are  we  to  do  with 
you  up  here  ?  That's  what  Captain  Peters  is  wondering, 
and  you  can't  be  surprised  if  he's  vexed.  'Pon  my  soul,  I'm 
vexed  myself,  and  why  the  deuce  you  came  at  this  time  of 
night  I  can't  think  !  " 

Poor  'Melia  began  to  partake  of  the  astonishment  evi 
dently  caused  by  her  unwelcome  appearance.  She  couldn't 
think,  now,  why  she  had  come.  It  was  too  ridiculous  to  say, 
or  even  to  think,  there,  in  that  cosey,  warm,  well-lit  cottage, 
before  those  three  men,  that  she  had  defied  the  winter  night, 
not  to  mention  the  proprieties,  for  the  sake  of  a  silly  dream, 
now  utterly  scorned.  'Melia's  ready  wit  had  deserted  her 
that  night,  and  it  was  Archie  who,  seeing  her  confusion, 
came  to  the  rescue. 

"  She  wanted  to  tell  you,  and  I  asked  her  to  let  me  bring 
her,"  he  announced,  taking  his  eyes  off  the  silent  Mr.  Peters, 
and  turning  to  the  Champion  of  the  Proprieties.  He  didn't 
feel  the  necessity  of  explaining  at  what  point  in  their  jour- 


380  MB.   PETERS 

11  oy  'Melia  and  he  had  arrived  at  an  understanding,  nor  did 
it  seem  to  him  that  anyone  else  need  know  of  'Melia's  first 
intention  to  do  that  journey  alone.  Prudence,  and  a  mas 
terful  manner,  were  developing  in  this  pupil  of  Love.  So 
much  so,  that  when  the  plain-spoken  'Melia  showed  signs  of 
an  uneasy  conscience  at  this  sketchy  explanation  of  their 
appearance,  Archie,  to  his  own  astonishment  and  hers, 
frowned  so  fiercely  that  'Melia  at  once,  by  her  silence, 
owned  obedience  to  her  newly  established  lord  and  master. 

It  was  then  that  Mr.  Peters,  recovering  apparently  from 
his  surprise,  came  forward,  not  only  cheerfully,  but  with 
more  of  his  old  manner  than  'Melia  had  seen  for  many 
weeks.  He  congratulated  them  vociferously,  his  big  voice 
booming  through  the  little  room,  and  insisted  upon  shaking 
hands  with  Archie,  who  still  looked  upon  him  rather  as 
a  dog  with  a  bone  might  look  upon  another  dog  boneless. 

He  swept  up  his  winnings  from  the  table,  shouting  down 
Rivers'  angry  objections.  He  got  out  fresh  tumblers  and 
mixed  for  both  of  his  new  guests,  though  not  another  drop 
would  he  touch  himself. 

"  And  how  did  you  come  ? "  he  asked  'Melia,  while 
Archie  and  her  father  were  apparently  trying  to  find  some 
topic  of  common  interest. 

"  On  our  bikes,  of  course,"  'Melia  answered,  beaming 
upon  him,  "  I  couldn't  have  done  it  but  for  you,  Cap'n 
Peters." 

"  That  is  true,"  Mr.  Peters  acknowledged,  and  lapsed  into 
silence  for  awhile  before  he  spoke  again. 

"  How  did  you  know  where  to  find  him  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  this  afternoon,  of  course.  Didn't  you  know 
that  ?  " 

No,  Mr.  Peters  had  not  known  that. 

"  At  what  time  did  you  see  him  ?  "  he  asked,  carelessly, 
being  apparently  hard  up  for  fresh  topics  of  conversation. 

"  Three  o'clock,  maybe,"  said  'Melia,  after  meditation. 


MR.   PETERS  WINS  AND  LOSES  381 

"  I  vexed  him  a  bit,  Cap'n  Peters,  an'  that  partly  made  me 
want  to  see  him,  I  think,"  so  Mr.  Peters  knew  that,  while 
'Melia  could  not  have  come  without  his  help,  she  probably 
would  not  have  known  where  to  come  had  he  not  also  tried 
to  help  Mrs.  Jimps. 

What  he  thought  of  all  this  no  one  knew.  He  played  the 
host  with  patience,  and,  as  'Melia  refused  to  usurp  the  other 
room,  they  all  sat  about  the  fire  until  she  fell  asleep  in  her 
chair.  When  the  gray  dawn  came,  all  of  them,  except  Mr. 
Peters,  looked  jaded  and  rather  miserable.  'Melia  and 
Archie  yawned  over  their  early  breakfast,  while  Eivers,  the 
gray  stubble  of  a  night's  growth  sprouting  on  his  cheeks, 
in  unpleasant  contrast  with  the  limp,  blue-black  mustache, 
was  openly  enraged  with  everyone.  He  was  angry  with 
'Melia  for  coming,  with  Archie  for  bringing  her,  and  with 
Mr.  Peters  for  rattling  his,  Eivers',  money  in  his  pocket, 
and  refusing  to  let  him  stay  the  day. 

It  was  only  at  the  very  moment  of  departure  that  Rivers 
cheered  up.  That  was  when,  Archie  and  'Melia  having 
moved  off,  Mr.  Peters  explained,  still  chinking  the  coins  in 
his  trousers'  pockets. 

"  The  good  Rivers  is  angry  ?  "  he  said,  watching  the  two 
young  people  as  they  went. 

"  The  silly  young  fools,"  Rivers  told  him,  following  his 
glance  ;  "  you  and  I  were  never  like  that,  my  dear  Peters." 

"  Never  !  How  foolish  of  you,  my  friend,  to  speak  to  her 
of  coming  here  !  " 

"  Gad  !  so  it  was,"  Rivers  admitted.  "  I  won't  be  such  a 
fool  next  time,  and  I  suppose  I  may  come  again,  though 
you  won't  let  me  stay  now.  I  feel  it  would  do  me  a  lot  of 
good." 

"  You  need  rest,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  "  and  I  could  give 
it  to  you  up  here.  Only,  what  is  the  use  if  you  are  always 
known  to  be  here,  and  always  fetched  ?  " 

"  You're  a  sharp  man  in  some  ways,  Peters,"  the  other 


382  MR.   PETERS 

admitted,  looking  at  him  with  the  air  of  one  who  had  dis 
covered  a  new  thing.  "  Are  you  staying  here  to-night  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Peters  told  him  simply,  without  asking  the  rea 
son  for  this  curiosity. 

"  I  may  go  through  to  Glasgow  this  afternoon,  if  it's  fine 
— for  a  week,"  said  liivers,  with  a  wink.  "  1  forgot  to  tell 
Em'ly  of  that  sooner,  but  I'll  do  so." 

"  I  shall  see  you,  perhaps,  when  you  return,"  said  Mr. 
Peters,  smiling,  and  watched  the  three  of  them  go  down 
the  hill,  where  Archie  and  'Melia  hoped  to  find  their  bi 
cycles,  while  Eivers  made  for  the  nearest  railway  station. 


CHAPTER  LIV 
A  FATHER'S  FAREWELL 

ME.  PETEES  stood  at  his  cottage  door,  and  watched  until 
he  could  see  nothing  of  his  visitors.  Then  he  went  in  again, 
and,  preparing  for  himself  good  coffee  and  other  little  luxu 
ries,  he  made  a  hearty  meal.  This  was  in  complete  accord 
ance  with  Mr.  Peters'  rule  of  life,  to  take  every  ease  and  lux 
ury  within  his  reach,  to  keep  his  big  body  in  good  condition 
for  any  demand  he  might  make  upon  its  strength,  and  to 
think  not  at  all  of  the  unattainable. 

After  breakfast  he  found  the  list  of  Leith  steamers,  and, 
after  looking  that  through,  he  smoked,  seeing  dreams  of  his 
own  in  the  smoke  of  the  Dream  Mixture.  Then  he  went 
out  of  the  cottage  and  plunging  among  the  firs,  was  at  once 
hidden  by  them,  while  they  whispered  to  one  another,  their 
swaying  heads  stirred  by  the  northwest  wind,  that  was  now 
rising. 

Mr.  Peters  was  hidden  for  an  hour,  unseen  except  by  the 
rabbits  which  came  out  of  their  burrows  for  a  little  food, 
and  which,  finding  that  he  took  no  notice  of  them,  sat  up 
to  watch  him  r^rionsly. 

Then,  coming  back,  hot  and  panting,  he  took  out  the 
cards  and  tried  his  old  game  of  Patience,  but  tried  in  vain. 

He  lay  back  in  his  chair,  jingling  what  money  was  still 
in  his  pockets,  'and  staring  across  at  the  little  chest  of 
drawers,  in  which  he  had  stowed  away  most  of  that  which 
Eivers  had  lost.  Then,  at  last,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoul 
ders  at  his  own  foolishness,  he  locked  the  cottage  door  and 
started  for  Edinburgh,  although  the  wind  had  begun  to 


384  MR.  PETERS 

moan  over  the  white  hills,  under  a  dirty  gray  sky,  and  a 
few  big  flakes  of  snow  drifted  against  his  face  as  he 
went. 

Early  that  afternoon,  'Melia  sat  and  shivered  in  her  little 
room  behind  the  shop.  Sometimes  the  outside  shop  was 
not  cold  enough  for  her,  and  at  other  times  that  little  room, 
in  spite  of  gas  and  fire,  couldn't  keep  her  warm.  Her  head 
ached  too,  and  she  felt  very  tired  and  stupid  after  the  last 
night's  escapade.  She  tried  to  take  comfort  in  thinking  of 
Archie,  but  could  only  wonder  how  she  would  manage  to 
be  a  good  wife  for  him  without  neglecting  Kivers. 

"  Gunpowder  and  matches  'd  go  better  together,"  she  de 
cided,  gloomily,  and  her  head  ached  more  than  ever  at  the 
thought  of  what  lay  before  her. 

To  her  came  Nell  Moriarty,  to  leave  her  purse  in  'Melia's 
charge. 

"  There's  a  good  deal  in  it,"  she  told  'Melia,  "  because  I 
had  a  check  from  father  this  morning,  and  cashed  it  in 
Princes  Street.  Now  I'm  going  to  make  some  calls,  and  I 
don't  want  to  carry  it  about  all  the  afternoon,  or  to  Fake  it 
home  first." 

"It'll  be  safe  here,  Miss  Nelly,"  'Melia  told  her,  and 
put  the  purse  in  her  pocket,  while  Nell  surveyed  her  crit 
ically. 

"  I've  the  awfullest  headache,"  'Melia  explained,  dis 
mally,  and  Nell  went  oft3,  saying  that  they  must  see  about 
that  when  she  came  back. 

Presently  Rivers  put  in  an  appearance,  in  a  better  tem 
per,  and  with  his  cheeks  clean-shaven,  and,  though  still 
frowning,  prepared  to  forgive  last  night's  doings  if  'Melia 
would  make  reasonable  amends. 

"  I'm  going  to  run  through  to  Glasgow  to-night,  for  a 
week,  on  urgent  business,"  he  announced,  shaking  the  snow 
off  his  coat  on  to  the  shop  floor. 

"  Yes,  father.    I  hope  you'll  wrap  up  well,"  said  'Melia, 


A  FATHER'S   FAREWELL  385 

dutifully.  "  You'll  write,  won't  you  ?  and  I  hope  you'll 
have  a  good  time." 

"  I  don't  know  that  there'll  be  any  chance  of  a  good 
time,"  Rivers  told  her,  with  severity.  "  The  fact  is,  your 
tomfoolery  last  night  lost  me  a  lot  of  money.  It  so  hap 
pened  that  Captain  Peters  (you  saw  we  had  played  a  little) 
had  all  the  luck,  and  all  my  ready  money.  Things  were 
just  coming  right  when  you  turned  up." 

"  I'm  so  sorry,"  'Melia  told  him,  penitently,  "  though  I 
wouldn't  like  you  to  take  Cap'n  Peters'  money  either.  Still, 
he  might  have  played  till  you  got  yours  back." 

"  Well,  he  didn't,  you  see,"  retorted  Rivers,  viciously. 
"  To-night,  though,  it'll  be  different — in  Glasgow  ;  and  I'll 
bring  you  back  a  wedding  present.  We  won't  waste  any 
more  time  over  that  business,  will  we,  hey  ?  " 

'Melia's  flushed  cheeks  could  scarcely  grow  hotter,  but 
she  answered  hurriedly  that  she  didn't  know  about  that 
business.  "  Time  enough  to  talk  about  that  later,"  she 
objected. 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  girlish  affectation,"  Rivers  decided. 
"  I'm  going  to  get  you  a  present  anyway,  my  dear  Em'ly, 
at  a  sale  I  know  of.  But,  by  the  by,  that  reminds  me  I 
haven't  got  half  enough  cash." 

"  Never  mind,  father,"  'Melia  told  him,  relieved  at  this 
announcement,  "  you'll  get  it  some  other  time,  when  things 
are  a  bit  settled." 

"  Rubbish  !  "  said  Rivers,  impatiently.  "  What  money 
have  you  got  ?  I  could  return  it  the  next  time  I  come 
in." 

"  Something  under  a  pound,"  'Melia  thought,  and  taking 
Nelly's  purse  out,  together  with  the  shabby  old  thing  that 
held  all  her  worldly  wealth,  she  put  the  first  back  into 
her  pocket,  and  emptied  her  own  upon  the  counter,  while 
Rivers  watched. 

"  Eighteen   an'   seven,"   she   announced.      "  You   could 

25 


386  MR.   PETERS 

leave  me  the  three  an'  seven,  couldn't  you,  father,  an' 
would  you  like  the  purse  ?" 

"  Fifteen  shillings  !  What's  the  use  of  that  to  me  ?  " 
snarled  Rivers.  "  1'ifteen  or  twenty  pounds  might  do,"  and 
so  they  might,  since  Kivers  meant  to  control  Fortune  early 
that  evening — at  Glasgow. 

"  My  !  what  a  lot,"  'Melia  exclaimed,  "  1  wish  I'd  got  it 
for  you,  pa,  1  do  indeed,  but  1  never  did  have  so  much  in 
all  my  life  !  " 

"  You  soon  will,  now,"  Kivers  suggested,  consolingly. 
"  Ha  !  a  bright  idea,"  and  starting,  apparently  surprised  at 
his  own  fertility  of  expedient,  "  I  have  it  !  "  he  announced. 

"  I'm  so  glad/'  said  'Melia,  much  relieved. 

"  It's  as  simple  as  possible,"  Kivers  went  on.  "  I'll  go 
round  and  see  Master  Archie.  lie's  good  for  twenty,  I 
should  think,"  but  'Melia  stared  aghast. 

"  You  can't  do  that,  not  for  anything." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  ! "  Kivers  insisted,  beginning  to  frown 
again.  "  Women  don't  understand  business.  Tell  me 
where  to  find  him.  I've  no  time  to  waste  in  searching  all 
over  the  place." 

"  I  don't  know,"  'Melia  told  him  in  a  strange  low  voice. 
"  I  couldn't  tell  you  if  I  did." 

"  Wouldn't,  you  mean,"  Rivers  retorted.  His  eyes  were 
bloodshot,  his  mustache  trembled,  his  hands  worked  upon 
the  counter.  Pie  was  not  a  good  thing  to  look  upon.  "  The 
youngster  will  have  the  sense  to  see  that  he  owes  me  a 
turn,  after  making  a  mess  of  things  as  he  and  you  did  last 
night,"  Kivers  went  on.  "  Come  !  " 

But  'Melia,  whose  face  had  now  gone  very  white  and 
stiff,  just  pressed  her  lips  more  firmly  together  and  shook 
her  head,  eying  her  father  steadily.  It  wasn't  worth  while, 
she  felt,  to  repeat  that  she  didn't  know  where  to  find  Ar 
chie,  since,  if  she  had  known,  she  wouldn't  have  told. 

But  Rivers,  gnawing  at  his  ragged  mustache,  had  another 


A  FATHER'S  FAREWELL  387 

idea.  If  'Melia  had  not  come  when  she  did,  he  would  have 
played  on  pretty  safely  with  what  money  he  still  had. 
What  he  felt  was  that  to  do  the  business  as  thoroughly  as 
he  meant  to  do  it  to-night,  he  must  not  start  to  win  at  once 
and  win  uninterruptedly.  Money  he  must  have,  to  be  able 
to  play  a  losing  game  at  first. 

"  What's  in  that  other  purse  of  yours  ?  "  he  asked,  point 
ing  down  across  the  counter  in  the  direction  of  'Melia's 
pocket. 

"  I  don't  know.  'Tisn't  mine,"  she  told  him,  and  took 
her  eyes  off  his,  for  a  moment,  to  look  towards  the  door, 
wishing  that  someone,  anyone,  would  come  in.  As  she 
spoke,  her  right  hand  instinctively  stole  down  to  the  purse, 
careful  for  its  safety,  but,  before  she  looked  at  Rivers  again, 
he  leant  across  and  took  'her  roughly  by  the  wrist. 

"  Come,  let's  see  that  purse,"  he  told  her. 

'Melia  hung  back,  protesting,  but  Rivers  held  on,  sure 
that  there  must  be  something  worth  having,  and  made  the 
more  obstinate  by  her  struggles. 

"  You  keep  two  purses,  do  you  ?  "  he  hissed  at  her, 
wrenching  at  her  clenched  hand  and  the  pocket,  all  the 
while.  "  It  will  be  his  money,  I  suppose.  You'll  take  it 
from  him  already,  will  you  ?  but  you're  too  delicate- 
minded  to  ask  for  a  loan  for  your  father.  Let  me  see  it, 
I  say  !  " 

They  wrestled  and  swung  to  and  fro  over  the  counter, 
Rivers,  thoroughly  maddened  now,  wrenching  at  the  girl's 
wrist,  and  careless  how  much  he  hurt  her,  while  'Melia, 
wild-eyed,  and  with  set  teeth,  clung  by  her  left  hand  to  a 
low  shelf,  and  threw  all  her  weight  downward  that  she 
might  not  be  dragged  across. 

"T  must  scream!"  she  panted,  at  his  ear,  but  Rivers 
took  no  notice,  thinking  it  an  idle  threat. 

"  Out  with  it,  you  jade,"  he  told  her,  "  or  I'll  come  round 
the  counter  for  it." 


388  MR.   PETERS 

He  had  just  determined  to  do  that,  without  any  further 
waste  of  time,  when  'Melia  suddenly  ceased  to  make  any 
resistance.  She  caught  sight  of  Mr.  Peters  standing  in  the 
doorway,  and  she  struggled  no  more,  but  when  Rivers, 
following  her  gaze,  turned,  and  saw  what  had  happened,  his 
rage  boiled  over.  He  struck  'Melia  heavily  across  the  face, 
and,  cursing  her  for  an  undutiful  slut,  sent  her  reeling 
back  among  the  boxes. 

For  some  seconds  after  that,  none  of  them  moved. 
'Melia,  half  lying,  half  sitting  upon  the  floor,  had  struck  her 
head  against  a  shelf-corner,  and,  though  still  clutching  the 
purse,  scarcely  knew  where  she  was,  or  what  she  did. 

Rivers,  suddenly  looking  years  older,  still  muttered  and 
cursed  between  his  teeth.  As  for  Mr.  Peters,  he  waited, 
with  a  face  so  immovable  that  no  one  could  have  suipposed 
he  had  seen  anything. 

Presently,  when  'Melia  began  to  stir,  he  stepped  past  Riv 
ers,  and  helped  her  to  the  old  settee  in  her  own  little  room. 

"You  are  better  now,"  he  told  'Melia,  and  'Melia  said 
yes,  and  thanked  him,  grateful  that  he  had  said  no  more, 
and  still  fumbling  anxiously  at  the  disputed  purse. 

"  I'm  a  silly,  Cap'n  Peters,"  she  told  him,  apologetically. 
"  I'm  always  vexin'  him  with  my  ways.  I  don't  know  how 
to  put  things.  He  never  hit  me  before,  and  I'm  sure  he 
won't  again." 

"I  think  not,"  Mr.  Peters  agreed,  and  said  no  more, 
excepting  that  he  understood  her  father  to  say  that  he  was 
going  to  Glasgow,  and,  if  so,  that  he  would  see  him  to  the 
station. 

"Thank  .you,  Cap'n  Peters.  I'd  be  glad  if  you  did," 
'Melia  admitted.  "  I  can't  put  things  right  now,  and  he'll 
feel  different  next  time  we  meet." 

To  this  Mr.  Peters  made  no  answer,  but,  after  looking 
down  upon  'Melia  for  a  moment,  said  good-by,  and  went 
off  without  offering  to  shake  hands,  taking  Rivers  with  him. 


A  FATHER'S  FAREWELL  389 

"  Mark  you,  Captain  Peters,"  the  other  began,  directly 
they  got  outside  the  shop,  "  that  girl  is  a  bitter  disappoint 
ment  to  me.  You  saw  me  chastise  her  ?  "  and  Mr.  Peters 
said  that  he  had  seen  him. 

"  I  ought  to  have  done  so  long  ago,"  Eivers  declared, 
working  himself  into  a  passion  again  ;  "I  hope  I  may  not 
have  to  do  so  again." 

"  I  am  sure  you  will  not,"  Mr.  Peters  assured  him.  They 
were  now  making  for  the  House  of  Residence,  and  Rivers 
pointed  this  out. 

"  I've  nothing  to  go  there  for,"  he  said  ;   "  have  you  ?  " 

"  Just  one  moment,"  suggested  Mr.  Peters,  "  a  little 
money  and  a  bag  from  my  room.  That  is  all,"  and  Rivers 
agreed  to  go  with  him. 

They  went,  and  they  left,  together.  It  was  at  the  door 
that  Mr.  Peters  said  good-by  to  Mrs.  Jimps. 

"  The  good  Rivers  has  told  you  that  he  goes  to  Glas 
gow  ?  "  he  asked  her. 

"  Yes,  for  a  week  on  urgent  business,"  Mrs.  Jimps  said, 
with  a  little  melancholy  smile  for  Mr.  Peters,  a  smile  which 
meant  a  very  great  deal,  for  it  was  intended  to  convey  that 
Mrs.  Jimps  remembered  the  lesson  she  had  got,  and  neither 
expected,  nor  wished,  to  see  Mr.  Rivers  return  from  Glas 
gow.  The  smile  was  also  meant  to  show  that  Mrs.  Jimps 
knew  Mr.  Peters  was  really  saying  good-by,  and  was  going 
off  also,  though  not  to  Glasgow.  It  should,  too,  have  ex 
pressed  a  great  deal  of  honest  heart-ache,  and  a  great  deal 
of  warm  good  feeling,  if  it  were  to  show  half  of  what  poor 
Mrs.  Jimps  felt.  But  as,  for  many  years,  a  certain  dignity 
and  coldness  of  demeanor  had  been  her  chief  aim,  perhaps 
a  smile  that  could  contain  so  much  was,  for  her,  an  impos 
sibility.  At  anyrate,  Mr.  Peters  did  not  seem  particularly 
impressed,  and  he  and  Rivers  went  away  together. 

As  they  went,  Rivers  still  grumbled  of  'Melia's  scandalous 
and  perverse  behavior. 


390  MR.   PETERS 

"  Gad  !  sir,  she  deserves  to  be  frightened,"  he  told  Mr. 
Peters.  "  Jt  would  serve  the  girl  right  if  she  never  saw  her 
poor  old  father  jigain  !  " 

"  It  would  be  what  she  deserves,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  he 
said  it  with  a  heartiness  that  pleased  Kivers  very  much. 

"  She'd  think  more  of  me,  she'd  be  a  more  dutiful  daugh 
ter,  if  she  thought,  for  a  time,  that  she  had  seen  the  last  of 
me,"  Kivers  suggested,  stopping  to  stare  at  Mr.  Peters  as  the 
thought  came  to  him,  and  Mr.  Peters  stared  back,  silent, 
but  very  much  interested. 

"  I'll  do  it  !  "  Rivers  decided,  and  then  and  there — in,  of 
course,  a  refreshment  bar — he  called  for  a  pen  and  paper, 
and,  dashing  off  a  few  lines,  handed  them  to  the  attentive 
Mr.  Peters. 

"  EMILY, — Your  disobedience  and  your  distrust  have 
hurt  me  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  I  feel  that  there  is  no 
more  pleasure  in  being  near  you,  and  that  I  am  better  away. 
Whether  I  shall  ever  return,  it  is  not  for  me  to  know.  I 
shall  soon  be  an  old  man,  and  cannot  naturally  expect  to 
live  many  years  longer,  especially  since  I  have  no  child  to 
comfort  my  old  age." 

Rivers  was  very  pleased  with  this  composition.  So  much 
was  he  pleased,  that  excitement  made  him  forgetful.  The 
letter  which  he  handed  to  Mr.  Peters  was  signed  "  Joshua 
Buncombe."  But  Mr.  Peters  said  nothing,  only  he  put  the 
letter  into  an  envelope  for  Rivers  directly  after  reading  it, 
and  it  was  not  until  he  was  alone,  later  in  the  afternoon, 
that  he  laughed  over  this.  Then  he  laughed  a  great  deal, 
but  he  was  not  mirthful,  and  if  Rivers  had  heard  him,  and 
had  known  the  cause,  he  would  have  felt  frightened  ;  but 
he  never  heard  it,  and  no  one  told  him. 

When  the  letter  was  written  and  posted,  Mr.  Peters  said 
that  lie  could  see  Rivers  no  farther  on  his  way  to  Glasgow. 


A  FATHER'S  FAREWELL  391 

At  this  Elvers  was  disturbed.  He  had  counted  upon  their 
going  to  the  hills  together,  and  hoped  to  work  round  to  the 
subject  of  a  loan  before  then,  since  he  knew  that  Mr.  Peters 
liked  money  on  the  table  when  he  played.  True,  he  might 
go  back  and  talk  to  'Melia  again,  but,  after  posting  the 
letter,  that  was  to  be  avoided  if  possible,  and  Rivers  could 
not  feel  at  all  sure  of  success  with  'Melia  in  any  case. 

It  was  Mr.  Peters  himself  who  solved  the  difficulty. 

"  The  girl  was  obstinate  about  money,  was  she  not  ?  "  he 
asked,  casually,  as  they  went  along. 

"  Yes,  and  she's  put  me  in  a  devil  of  a  hole,"  Rivers  as 
sured  him.  "  I  wanted  cash  to  take  to  -  -  Glasgow,  in 
case  you  had  last  night's  luck  again.  She  refused  to  lend 
me  one  penny,  sir,  of  money,  twenty  pounds  it  was,  that 
I  had  given  her  two  days  ago." 

Twenty  pounds  !  Mr.  Peters  was  delighted  to  oblige  the 
good  Rivers,  and  pressed  it  upon  him  at  once. 

"  You  will,  no  doubt,  find  that  enough  to  begin  with 
to-night,"  he  decided.  "  You  are  going  to  win,  are  you 
not  ?  "  and  with  that  they  separated,  for  the  time,  without 
Mr.  Peters  having  so  much  as  hinted  that  he  would  like 
an  I  0  U  for  the  twenty  pounds. 


CHAPTER  LV 

NELL   KEEPS  THE  SHOP 

WHEN  Nell  went  back  for  her  purse,  she  found  'Melia 
shivering  worse  than  ever,  upon  the  old  red  settee,  and  de 
cided  promptly  that  she  must  go  home.  Not  only  that,  but 
Xell  went  out  and  fetched  a  cab  before  she  said  anything 
about  her  decision,  and  then  refused  to  argue  the  point, 
because  the  cab  was  waiting. 

"  But  who'll  see  to  the  shop  ?  "  poor  'Melia  debated. 
"  It  can't  be  left,  Miss  Nelly,  and  I've  not  a  soul  I  can  trust 
to  take  it  on." 

"  I  will,"  Nell  announced.  "  Off  you  go,  now  ! "  and 
laughed  to  see  'Melia's  dismay. 

"  You  can't  do  it  !  "  'Melia  declared.  "  What' d  your  pa 
say,  Miss  Nelly  ?  I  can't  think  of  it." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  Nelly  told  her,  "  wait  a  minute,  and 
we'll  manage  another  way." 

She  slipped  out,  and  presently  returned  triumphant. 

"  Your  friend  in  the  smoking-cap  isn't  such  a  bad  little 
man,  after  all,"  she  told  'Melia.  "  He's  coming  soon,  to  put 
up  the  shutters.  I'm  going  to  close  early  this  afternoon. 
Now,  I  won't  listen  any  longer,"  and,  with  that,  she  hustled 
'Melia  gently  into  the  cab,  wondering,  as  she  did  so,  where 
on  earth  the  poor  girl  had  got  such  a  swollen  face. 

But  when  'Melia  reached  the  cab,  she  remembered  some 
thing  important,  and  insisted  upon  going  back  to  the  little 
back  room,  to  speak  of  it. 

"  You'll  remember,  the  first  time  you  came  here,  that 
you  found  a  young  gentleman  talking  to  me  ?  "  she  asked 
Nell,  and  Nell,  reflecting,  said  that  she  did. 


NELL  KEEPS  THE  SHOP  393 

"  P'r'aps  he'll  be  here  before  you  close,"  'Melia  sug 
gested.  "  I  don't  know  that  he  will,  but  he  does  come  in — 
at  tinies.  It's  Mr.  Inch,  from  Drumsheugh  Gardens,  Miss 
Xelly,  and  he'd  be  frightened  to  see  you  here,  an'  me  away. 
Will  you  please  tell  him,  from  me,  that  I'm  all  right,  only 
I've  got 'a  cold,  and  I'll  be  out  again  to-morrow  ?" 

Nell  nodded,  with  wide-open  eyes,  and  followed  'Melia, 
as,  having  relieved  her  mind,  that  damsel  hurried  to  the 
cab.  But,  being  safely  ensconced  therein,  she  thought 
further  revelations  necessary,  and  let  down  the  window. 

"  We're  engaged — since  last  night,"  she  told  Nell,  and, 
the  cabman  being  impatient,  she  was  driven  off  before  she 
could  receive  congratulations. 

As  for  Nell,  she  stared  after  the  retreating  cab  in  silence, 
and  then,  not  having  had  the  advantage  of  a  mother's 
teaching,  and  being,  moreover,  utterly  at  a  loss  for  words  to 
express  the  feelings  of  the  moment,  she  hugely  delighted 
two  passing  small  boys,  by  a  long,  low  whistle.  They  imi 
tated  her,  and  Nell  retired  promptly,  not  feeling  quite  sure 
whether  she  wanted  her  ally  in  the  smoking-cap  to  come 
at  once,  or  whether  she  would  like  him  to  keep  her  waiting 
until  Mr.  Archie  Inch  came. 

Whatever  she  might  wish,  Archie  was  the  first  to  arrive, 
and  was  received  with  a  dignified  and  strictly  business-like 
air,  which  Nell  found  it  difficult  to  preserve  as  Archie  stared 
about  him. 

"  What  can  I  show  you  ?  "  Nell  inquired  politely,  think 
ing  at  the  same  time  that  she  knew  well  enough  what  he 
wanted  to  see. 

Archie  bowing,  and  staring  more  than  ever,  almost  won 
dering  whether  he  had  not  lost  his  wits  and  wandered  into 
the  wrong  shop,  asked  whether  Miss  Eivers  was  there. 

"  Oh,  it's  Mr.  Inch,  is  it  ?  "  Nell  suggested,  and  Archie, 
blushing,  he  scarcely  knew  why,  told  her  that  it  was  Mr. 
Inch,  and  repeated  his  question. 


394  MB.   PETERS 

"  Miss  Rivers  has  gone  home,  Mr.  Inch,  and  left  a  mes 
sage  in  ease  you  called,"  Nell  told  him.  "  She  says  that 
she  has  a  cold,  and  is  sure  to  be  here  again  to-morrow. 
But  "  (and  here  Nell's  manner  changed  altogether,  and  she 
leant  over  the  counter  with  a  confidential  air)  "  I  think  a 
doctor  had  better  see  her  to-night,  and  I  was  wondering 
whether  I  should  send  one  down,  or  whether  you'd  like  to 
do  so  yourself." 

"  Oh,  I  will,  of  course,  at  once,"  Archie  told  her,  and 
hurried  away  for  Maitland,  without  paying  much  atten 
tion  to  Nell's  assurance  that  she  only  wished  to  be  on  the 
safe  side  for  'Melia's  sake,  and  that  'Melia  wouldn't  be 
allowed  to  think  about  her  work  the  next  morning,  in  any 
case. 

"  That's  a  very  nice  boy,"  Nell  decided,  as  she  went  to 
the  door,  and  watched  Archie's  long  legs  flying  west.  "  He's 
awfully  fond  of  her.  I  don't  believe  he  looked  at  me — 
scarcely.  I  wonder  if  anybody  would  really  care  like  that 
if  I  were  ill  !  I  suppose  the  opposition  shop  may  as  well 
come  and  close  this  now.  Here  he  comes  !  " 

But  it  wasn't  the  "  opposition  shop  "  that  came.  It  was 
Tom  Dunbar,  dropping  in,  on  his  way  to  "  diggings,"  for 
an  ounce  of  Dream  Mixture,  and  Nell,  taken  very  much  by 
surprise,  did  not  face  him  so  coolly  as  usual. 

"  Well,  I  never  !  "  Tom  ejaculated,  when  he  had  recov 
ered  a  little  from  the  shock.  "  Where's  Miss  Rivers  ?  " 

"  She's  ill,"  Nell  told  him.  "  She's  only  just  gone.  I'm 
sorry  you've  missed  her." 

At  this  Tom  stared,  but,  having  lately  made  up  his  mind 
to  new  tactics,  he  only  said  that  it  did  not  matter. 

"I'm  sorry  she's  ill,  though,"  he  said,  "awfully  sorry." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  you  need  trouble,"  Nell  suggested. 

She  isn't  very  bad,  and  besides,  she  has  someone  who'll 
take  care  of  her." 

"  Yes,  I  know— her  father,"  Tom  decided. 


NELL  KEEPS   THE  SHOP  395 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Nell,  letting  the  information  of  'Melia's 
having  a  father  go  by  unheeded.  "  Perhaps  you  didn't 
know  Miss  Rivers  was  engaged  ?  " 

Tom  whistled,  just  as  Nell  herself  had  done. 

"  Jove  !  "  he  remarked,  "  he's  a  lucky  fellow." 

"  He's  a  very  nice  one,"  said  Nell,  "  and  he'll  be  very 
good  to  her,  I'm  sure.  I  never  saw  a  boy  so  much  worried 
as  he  was  when  I  told  him." 

"  Yes,  she's  the  sort  of  girl  a  fellow  could  get  very  fond 
of,"  Tom  decided.  "  I  don't  believe  she  could  humbug  a 
fellow  if  she  tried." 

He  had  lately,  with  great  exertion  to  himself,  avoided 
Nell  as  much  as  possible,  and  treated  her  in  a  merely  hail- 
fellow-well-met  style  when  forced  to  speak.  In  accordance 
with  this  plan,  which  he  wickedly  told  himself  was  mere 
politeness  since  she  found  him  such  a  nuisance,  he  now 
wished  her  good-night,  -and  made  for  the  door. 

"  I'll  look  in  to-morrow,  and  congratulate  Miss  Rivers," 
he  said,  as  he  went. 

"  She  won't  be  here,"  Nell  called  after  him.  "  I  sha'n't 
let  her  come  out.  Perhaps  I  shall  have  to  be  here  myself," 
which  last  remark,  one  fears,  cannot  possibly  be  considered 
Nell's  true  belief. 

Tom,  knowing  Lucius  as  he  did,  grinned  at  the  notion. 

"Ah,  well,  I'll  wait  until  the  day  after,"  he  told  her,  and 
Nell  felt  that  this  was  carrying  the  ideas  of  mere  friendship 
too  far. 

"  You  might  stay  and  help  me  to  put  up  the  shutters," 
she  suggested,  but  Tom  refused  calmly,  to  all  appearance, 
but  in  reality  with  remorse. 

"  Awfully  sorry,"  he  told  her,  looking  unconcernedly 
into  the  street.  "  but  I  promised  the  Macgregor  girls  that 
I'd  call  to-night  on  my  way  down.  It's  their  mother's  af 
ternoon,  you  know." 

Now,  the  Macgregor  girls  ranked  very  much  with  Mrs. 


;}90  MR.    PETERS 

MacQuestra,  Moriarty's  Widdy,  in  poor  Nell's  esteem,  and 
she  felt  the  situation  to  be  desperate. 

"  I  wish  you'd  help  me,"  she  said  plaintively,  but  Tom, 
standing  with  his  back  still  towards  her,  shook  his  head 
decidedly. 

"  I  know  it  seems  rude,  but  you  see,"  he  explained,  "  you 
want  to  be  just  friends  and  no  more,  and  I  daresay  you're 
right,  though  I  didn't  think  so  at  first.  It's  getting  easier 
now,  though,  and  I  feel  that  soon  it'll  be  all  right.  But 
I  can't  trust  myself  yet  not  to  worry  you,  and  so  it's  better 
that  I  shouldn't  be  hanging  about." 

There  was  no  answer,  and  Tom,  under  his  breath,  called 
himself  an  unmannerly  brute.  "  Of  course,"  he  went  on, 
"  there's  no  such  great  hurry  for  me.  If  you  like  to  go, 
I'll  run  this  show  with  pleasure  for  half  an  hour,  and  put 
up  the  shutters  myself." 

Still  no  answer,  and  Tom  began  to  think  he  wras  being 
made  a  fool  of. 

"  By  the  by,"  he  wrent  on,  "  I  suppose  you're  right  about 
that  buckle  I  gave  you.  If  you'll  let  me  have  it  some  time, 
I'll  send  it  to  one  of  the  girls  at  home." 

This  was  carrying  his  scheme  too  far,  and  might  easily 
have  been  fatal.  Perhaps,  even,  the  scamp  deserved  that 
it  should  be.  He  made  a  step  farther,  and  then  turned  with 
his  hand  upon  the  door. 

"  Do  you  want  this  left  open  ?  "  he  asked,  but  Nell  made 
no  reply.  Her  hands  wrere  up  to  her  face,  and  on  her  waist, 
as  the  front  of  her  jacket  opened,  shone  the  silver  buckle 
where  it  had  shone  for  days  past  when  Tom  was  not  likely 
to  see  it. 

"  D —  -  the  Macgregor  girls,"  said  Tom  hastily,  and  I 
am  sure  insincerely.  .  .  .  The  "  opposition  shop  "  found 
him  there  half  an  hour  later. 


CHAPTER  LVI 

A  SONG,  A  JOURNEY,  AND  A  VOYAGE 

ALL  through  the  day  the  snow  had  been  drifting  down, 
and  when  Rivers,  walking  up  from  Colinton,  reached  the 
open  hillside  at  Bonaly,  he  could  see  no  track  of  any  kind 
— indeed,  he  could  not  see  far  at  all.  A  dazzling,  dancing, 
whirling  cloud  of  snow-flakes  troubled  his  eyes,  and  con 
fused  his  brain.  It  was  no  ordinary  invitation  that  would 
have  tempted  Eivers  up  the  brae  that  dusky  afternoon. 
Even  now  he  hesitated,  standing  just  on  the  border  of  the 
open  moorland,  and  debating  within  himself  whether  this 
little  expedition,  profitable  though  it  would  be,  might  not 
safely  stand  over  until  better  weather  came. 

"  It  would  be  a  great  joke,"  said  Rivers,  chuckling,  "  if, 
after  all,  I  used  friend  Peters'  twenty  pounds  in  a  little  trip 
to  Glasgow,"  and  he  was  still  chuckling  over  this  idea,  when 
Mr.  Peters  himself  hailed  him,  and  came  striding  down. 

Whence  he  had  risen,  and  how  long  he  'had  waited,  Mr. 
Peters  did  not  say.  There  had  been  very  little  time  for 
him  to  do  any  business  in  the  city,  and  yet  reach  the  hills 
before  Rivers  did.  However,  there  he  stood,  snow-covered, 
a  very  polar  bear  in  size  and  shape,  explaining  that,  in  such 
weather,  he  had  feared  Rivers  would  lose  his  way  if  left  to 
come  alone. 

"  Gad  !  a  fellow  might  miss  the  path  on  a  night  like 
this,"  said  Rivers,  as  they  climbed,  "  and  be  seen  no  more, 
until  the  snow  melted." 

"  That  is  quite  true,''  Mr.  Peters  assured  him.  "  I  would 
not  have  that  happen  to  you  for  worlds,"  and  they  stumbled 
on,  Rivers  growing  more  loquacious  as  he  thought  of  the 


398  MR.   PETERS 

fire,  and  the  whiskey,  and  the  £ards,  awaiting  them  at  the 
end  of  the  journey. 

"  Did  you  ever  use  the  dice  ?  "'  he  asked  Mr.  Peters, 
clutching  at  his  arm  on  making  a  false  step. 

"  At  backgammon,  often,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  but  Riv 
ers  didn't  mean  that. 

"  Jt's  an  amusing  thing  to  put  a  little  money  on  a  throw, 
if  one  gets  tired  of  the  cards,"  he  suggested.  "  Have  you 
never  done  that  ?  " 

Yes,  Mr.  Peters  had  done  that,  but  very  seldom.  "  The 
dice  always  go  against  me,"  he  acknowledged. 

"  We'll  have  a  throw  to-night,  if  you  care  for  a  change," 
Rivers  told  him.  "  I  put  dice  in  my  pocket,"  and  Mr. 
Peters  said  something  to  the  effect  that  it  was  very  thought 
ful  of  the  good  Rivers,  and  that  they  would  see. 

"  I  shall  be  getting  an  old  man  soon  now,"  Rivers  told 
Mr.  Peters,  stumbling  again.  "  If  I'm  to  take  the  journey 
that  gypsy  body  spoke  of,  I'd  better  set  about  it  pretty  soon. 
Your  voyage  could  wait,  for  that  matter,  but  they're  both 
to  come  off  this  year,  didn't  she  say  ?  " 

Mr.  Peters  had  forgotten  all  this,  and  was  much  inter 
ested,  making  Rivers  repeat  all  that  he  remembered  of  their 
two  fortunes. 

"  You  a  journey,  and  I  a  voyage — and  both  this  year," 
he  repeated.  "  It  is  curious.  I  had  forgotten  that." 

''  Yes,  I  a  journey  and  you  a  voyage,"  Rivers  insisted, 
"  and  I  couldn't  make  out  why  she  drew  that  distinction, 
you  know.  Hang  me  if  I  do  now  ?  A  fellow  can't  travel 
far,  in  this  little  corner  of  the  earth,  without  a  voyage,  can 
he  ?  " 

But  something  about  Rivers'  speech  had  amused  Mr. 
Peters,  and  he  began  to  laugh,  as  Rivers  had  once  made 
him  laugh  before.  Started,  he  could  not  stop.  He  roared, 
stumbling  and  staggering  in  his  walk,  and  at  last,  giving 
way  to  the  fit  altogether,  rolled  shrieking  in  the  snow. 


A  SONG,  A  JOURNEY,  AND  A  VOYAGE       399 

The  thing  was  not,  however,  laughter-provoking  to  see. 
Mr.  Peters  looked  scarcely  sane,  and  Kivers'  hand  closed 
upon  the  butt  of  the  revolver,  which  he  often  carried,  and 
had  slipped  into  a  pocket  to-night  lest  a  ruined  man  should 
turn  restive.  Mr.  Peters,  however,  rose  from  the  snow,  and 
stopped  laughing  as  suddenly  as  he  had  begun. 

It  was  nearly  six  when  they  reached  the  cottage,  and  that 
night  Mr.  Peters,  instead  of  having  a  quiet  meal,  and  then 
leaving  it  to  liivers  to  suggest  play,  as  had  been  done  the 
night  before,  insisted  upon  bringing  out  the  cards  at  once. 

"  You  can  feed  afterwards — if  you  care  to,"  he  said,  and, 
setting  down  whiskey  and  biscuits  by  Kivers'  side,  began. 

The  cards  were  favorable,  and  he  mostly  won  for  the 
first  half  hour  or  so  ;  nevertheless,  he  tossed  the  cards 
across  the  room,  calling  upon  Eivers  for  the  dice,  and  they 
threw,  one  against  the  other,  turn  by  turn,  and  the  luck 
changed. 

But,  whereas  at  first,  while  he  won,  Mr.  Peters  was  eager, 
fretful,  and  impatient,  now  he  grew  cool.  Throw  after 
throw  went  against  him.  Once,  even,  a  dice  that  came 
from,  Rivers  only  knew  where,  fell  and  rattled  upon  the 
floor,  and  Eivers,  to  cover  it,  had  to  sweep  down  the  two 
that  were  rolling  on  the  table.  But  Mr.  Peters  gave  no  sign 
of  noticing  anything  strange.  He  looked  far  more  often 
at  the  watch,  lying  upon  the  table  beside  him,  than  at  the 
dice,  and  he  played  for  whatever  stakes  Rivers  named. 

At  last  it  drew  close  upon  eight  o'clock — a  time  when,  in 
the  cities,  people  are  stirring  by  the  hundred  ;  but  eight 
is  a  late  enough  hour  upon  the  Pentlands,  when  the  snow 
lies  deep,  and  before  the  lambing  season  drags  one  out. 

It  was  then  that  Mr.  Peters,  answering  Rivers'  call,  care 
lessly  put  his  hand  upon  the  table  where  his  pile  had  been 
at  the  beginning,  to  push  his  stake  forward,  and  found 
nothing  there. 

His  side  of  the  table  showed  not  a  note,  not  a  coin. 


400  MR-    PETERS 

They  were  all  on  the  far  side,  and  already  being  picked  up 
by  Rivers  and  stuffed  into  bis  pockets. 

When  he  saw  this,  however,  Mr.  Peters,  instead  of  swear 
ing,  began  to  laugh,  looking  at  his  watch  ;  and  Rivers, 
seeing  him  laugh,  sniggered  too. 

"  One  more,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him,  still  laughing,  and 
then,  putting  a  hand  to  his  own  throat,  he  lifted  a  gold 
coin,  hung  upon  a  silk  cord,  from  under  his  shirt. 

"  What's  that  ? "  asked  Rivers,  pushing  the  dice-box 
over,  and  craning  across  to  look  at  it. 

"  It  is  a  gold  coin,  a  souvenir,"  Mr.  Peters  told  him, 
" — though  I  did  not  need  one,"  he  added. 

"  Ha  !  Parting  gift.  Tender  recollections,  and  so  on," 
Rivers  suggested,  leaning  back  without  seeing  more  than 
that  it  was  gold.  "  Here's  a  sovereign  against  it.  Tell  me 
the  story." 

"  Anything  will  do  against  it,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  "  and  I 
will  tell  you  the  story  presently." 

Then  they  threw,  Mr.  Peters  casting  a  three  and  four, 
Rivers  winning  with  double  fives,  and  Mr.  Peters  laughed 
again. 

"  I  will  tell  you  the  story,"  he  said,  pushing  the  coin  a 
little  way  across  the  table  with  the  tip  of  one  finger. 

But  when  Rivers  stretched  out  a  hand  to  take  it,  Mr. 
Peters  clutched  that  hand,  and  then  the  other,  before  it 
could  touch  the  revolver  in  Rivers'  pocket.  Then,  throw 
ing  all  his  weight  recklessly  across,  he  crushed  down  his 
enemy  and  the  table  together — he  on  the  top,  in  some  way 
so  twisting  and  injuring  the  man's  arms  that  they  hung 
limp  as  though  dislocated  at  the  shoulders  ;  and  presently 
Rivers  lay  upon  the  floor  with  a  running  knot  about  his 
knees  and  ankles.  "  Now  I  can  tell  you  that  story  quietly," 
said  Mr.  Peters. 

The  man  upon  the  floor  shouted,  rolling  to  and  fro,  but 
Mr.  Peters  smiled. 


A  SONG,    A  JOURNEY,    AND   A  VOYAGE  401 

"•  At  the  nearest  farm,"  he  said,  "  they  go  to  bed  at  eight 
on  these  nights.  They  have  told  me  so.  Come  now,  listen 
to  my  story,  for  I  have  no  time  to  lose.  I  take  a  voyage 
to-night,  but  first,  my  good  Eivers — or,  let  us  say,  Bun 
combe — I  must  tell  this  story  and  start  you  on  your  way." 

He  twisted  another  cord  about  Rivers'  arms,  useless 
though  they  seemed,  pulling  the  elbows  back  until  the  man 
writhed  with  pain. 

Then  he  dragged  him  up  on  to  a  chair,  and  he  finished 
with  another  rope  about  the  neck. 

u  Listen  to  the  wind,"  he  said.  "  If  an  unlucky  man 
came  this  way  to-night,  and  heard  you,  he  would  only  pass 
by  and  make  haste  to  get  home,  away  from  the  shrieking 
devil  of  a  wind." 

He  stood  and  looked  down,  laughing,  upon  the  poor 
wretch,  who  now  spoke,  promising  silence,  and  begging 
Mr.  Peters  to  take  all  the  money  and  to  go.  He  had  no 
more,  he  protested,  and  he  would  sit  quiet  all  the  night, 
if  Mr.  Peters  left  him  there  ;  but,  while  he  begged,  one 
arm  began  to  recover  a  little  sensation  and  power  of  move 
ment,  and  that  hand  shifted,  in  spite  of  the  cord,  towards 
the  revolver. 

Mr.  Peters  saw  this  at  once,  and,  leaning  over,  found 
the  revolver  and  laid  it  upon  the  table. 

"  Some  one  might  come,"  he  said,  simply.  "  You  remind 
me  that  I  have  not  told  my  story,  and  it  is  getting  late. 
Listen  !  " 

Tf  this  was  a  story  that  Mr.  Peters  told,  he  had  his  own 
peculiar  way  of  telling  it,  for,  instead  of  speaking,  he  only 
began  a  song.  "  0  bianca  e  fredda,"  he  sang — the  hack 
neyed  Italian  air  which  had  sounded  in  a  murderer's  ears 
long  ago,  when  he  rode  through  the  night  from  Bonville 
City. 

A  shepherd  from  the  nearest  farm  passed  by  that  even 
ing,  not  far  from  the  cottage,  and  later,  as  he  supped  his 

26 


402  MR-   PETERS 

porridge,  told  his  wife  of  the  queer  \vays  of  the  foreign 
gentleman,  whom  they  knew  by  sight. 

The  cottage  was  lit  up,  the  man  said,  and  the  foreign 
gentleman  was  singing  as  merry  as  might  be.  He  had 
thought  of  knocking  at  the  door  to  wish  him  good-night, 
but  the  snow  was  deep,  the  wind  was  skirling  around,  and 
altogether  "  it  wasna  eannie." 

What  lie  heard  was  the  song  that  Lord  Inch  had  heard 
in  the  Parliament  House,  and  that  Buncombe  had  heard 
then  too,  as  well  as  before  at  Bonville. 

When  Mr.  Peters  finished  singing,  the  man  in  the  chair 
was  silent  for  a  moment,  staring  at  him  in  horror,  and  Mr. 
Peters  spoke  once  more. 

"  I  meant  to  talk  to  you,"  he  said,  with  a  glance  at  his 
watch,  "  but  it  is  time  to  start  upon  your  travels.  Besides, 
I  see  that  you  understand  my  story,  though  how  long  you 
may  remember  it  I  cannot  tell  " — and  taking  one  end  of  the 
rope  that  was  looped  about  Buncombe's  neck,  he  looked 
up  at  a  beam  above  him. 

An  hour  later  Mr.  Peters,  who  had  carried  something 
out  among  the  firs,  came  in  from  their  whispering,  tossing 
blackness,  leaving  them  to  call  to  the  sky,  if  they  could, 
M'hat  thing  it  was  that  lay  in  the  ground  at  their  feet,  which 
the  snow  was  already  covering  again. 

A  few  minutes  later  he  locked  the  cottage  door,  and  went 
down  the  hillside  to  the  Glencorse  Reservoir,  and  there  a 
cab  waited  for  him,  the  driver  stamping  up  and  down  in 
the  snow. 

"  T  am  punctual,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  the  man  acknowl 
edged  that  to  be  so,  saying  at  the  same  time  that  it  was 
an  awful  night,  and  that  he  hoped  Mr.  Peters  would  re 
member  ii. 

"  I  will,  if  you  drive  quickly,"  said  Mr.  Peters,  and  step 
ping  into  the  cab,  he  went  silently  away. 


THE    MAX    TX    THE    CHAIIi    WAS    SII.KNT    KOI?    A    MOMENT 


A  SONG,    A  JOURNEY,   AND  A   VOYAGE  403 

The  snow  still  swirled  in  dancing  clouds,  confusing  to 
the  eye,  and  confusing  also,  apparently,  to  the  mind  of  Mr. 
Peters.  He  scarcely  knew  whether  he  thought  and  saw, 
or  whether  he  dreamt,  as  he  stared  out  upon  the  night,  and 
rolled  down  towards  Edinburgh. 

Sometimes  he  could  have  sworn  that  his  mother,  dark- 
faced  and  solemn-eyed,  looked  in  at  the  window  and  beck 
oned  to  him,  disappearing  and  reappearing  in  a  twisted 
eddy  of  snow-flakes.  Sometimes  it  was  Buncombe  as  he 
had  appeared  before  starting  upon  his  last  journey. 

Over  this  journey,  as  he  rolled  along,  Mr.  Peters  thought 
with  vague  regrets.  There  were  so  many  things  that  he 
could  have  said,  so  many  things  that  he  could  have  told  the 
Carrion,  to  show  what  infinite  pains  had  been  taken,  and 
how,  even  if  private  vengeance  had  failed,  the  law  would 
have  had  him.  The  business  had  been  concluded  far  too 
quickly.  A  later  boat  from  Leith  would  have  suited  Mr. 
Peters  equally  well,  yet  he  had  been  interrupted  at  his 
business  before,  and  he  might  have  been  again.  Then, 
too,  he  thought,  with  a  grudging  reluctance,,  that  ven 
geance  could  not  be  called  complete  at  all,  since  'Melia's 
friendliness  had  made  him  decide  to  leave  her  and  Archie, 
while  Lord  Inch  had  died  in  all  the  dignity  of  his  office. 

Still,  it  must  do,  and  he  thought  that  his  mother's  face 
was  not  so  frowning  now,  among  the  snow-clouds,  as  it  had 
been  wlffle  she  lived,  and  taught  him  to  live,  with  this  thing 
ever  in  mind. 

So,  first  the  fields  and  hedges,  then  the  huddled  houses 
of  the  Edinburgh  streets,  slipped  by,  and  at  last  Mr.  Peters, 
paying  his  cabman  without  any  such  dispute  as  had  her 
alded  his  arrival  in  Edinburgh,  stood  upon  the  edge  of  the 
Leith  docks. 

No,  that  nearest  boat  was  not  his,  he  was  told. 

To-night  she  lay  in  the  opposite  berth,  and  he  must 
hurry  round,  for  her  bell  was  already  ringing. 


404  MR.  PETERS 

Mr.  Peters,  a  small  portmanteau  in  his  hand,  hurried,  as 
lie  was  told.  The  snow  drifted  into  his  face  and  the  wind 
whistled  about  his  ears,  but  the  bell  still  rang,  and  Mr. 
Peters  still  hurried. 

Then,  suddenly,  the  bell  stopped,  just  as  he  reaehed  a 
corner.  Mr.  Peters,  knowing  the  need  for  haste,  pressed  on 
and  took  this  corner  sharply.  Another  five  minutes,  and 
he  would  be  out  of  this  accursed  place.  These  maddening 
snow-flakes  would  dazzle  him  no  more,  with  their  whirling 
fantasies  of  shrouds  and  faces.  Was  this  the  way — or  that, 
where  his  mother  stood  and  beckoned  ?  Now  he  was  very 
near.  Were  those  the  ship's  ropes  cast  off,  that  he  heard 
splashing  ?  Mr.  Peters  opened  his  mouth  to  shout  that  he 
was  coming — that  they  must  wait  another  moment — but  no 
man  ever  heard  him.  A  ship's  hawser,  snow-covered,  lay 
in  his  path,  and  over  this  he  tripped.  The  portmanteau 
fell  from  his  hand  as  he  staggered  on,  clutching  at  the  air, 
and  finding  no  firmer  support.  Another  step,  and  his  feet 
had  left  solid  ground,  for  Mr.  Peters  had  gone  head  fore 
most  over  the  side  into  the  dock.  If  that  had  been  all,  there 
would  have  been  little  harm  done.  He  had  plunged  into 
ice-cold  water  before,  as  deep  as  this,  of  his  own  free  will. 
But,  as  he  fell,  the  great  black  head  struck  heavily  against 
a  projecting  stone — that  stunned  him,  and  the  waters,  as 
silent  as  himself,  closed  over  Mr.  Peters. 

That  night  the  anxious  Archie  stood  in  the  little  sitting- 
room  of  'Melia's  landlady,  and  listened  to  the  verdict  of 
Maitland,  whom  he  had  fetched  post-haste  to  see  'Melia. 

"  She'll  do,  laddie,"  Maitland  told  him,  "  you'll  see  her 
up  in  a  day  or  iwo.  What's  this  I  hear  about  a  moonlight 
ride,  you  rascal  ?  You  must  take  more  care  of  her.  She's 
a  good  lassie,  in  spite  of  her  father,  which  should  just  re 
mind  us  that  we've  other  ancestors  besides  father  and 
mother.  I  hope  the  rascal  may  have  told  the  truth  for 


A  SONG,   A  JOURNEY,   AND  A  VOYAGE  405 

once,  and  have  taken  to  his  heels.  She'll  need  a  bit  school 
ing,  Archie,  but  we'll  be  proud  to  show  Mrs.  Archie  any 
where  yet." 

At  the  House  of  Residence  Mrs.  Jimps  went  her  rounds, 
attended  by  the  faithful  Annie,  and  paused  in  the  corridor 
between  two  rooms. 

"  You  can  put  fresh  bedding  into  these  rooms  to-morrow, 
Annie,"  she  announced,  "  Captain  Peters  has  had  to  go 
upon  another  voyage,  and  I  don't  think  there'll  be  room  for 
Mr.  Eivers  if  he  comes  back  from  Glasgow." 

That  was  all  she  said,  and  Annie,  though  she  looked 
hard,  could  discover  nothing  more  by  any  expression  in 
Mrs.  Jimps'  face.  But  Mrs.  Jimps  sat  late  that  night 
pretending  to  work  at  her  accounts,  and  really  thinking  of 
Mr.  Peters. 

In  another  part  of  the  city  Madge  Murray  thought  of  him 
too,  and  made  fresh  plans  to  attract  the  attention  of  this 
provokingly  cold-blooded  foreigner.  It  was  well  for  her, 
maybe,  that  Mr.  Peters  would  cross  her  path  no  more,  just 
as  it  was  well  for  Mrs.  Jimps  that  she  turned  back  resolutely 
to  her  care  of  the  House  of  Residence  and  her  unflown 
Paying  Guests. 

In  the  house  of  Lucius  "Moriarty  there  was  great  excite 
ment  that  night,  Lucius  having  suddenly  become  aware 
that  his  child  was  a  woman,  with  a  will  of  her  own,  and  a 
heart  that  she  had  given  away.  "  Begor  !  "  said  Lucius, 
his  fringe  of  hair  in  a  state  of  wild  disorder.  "  She's  a 
child,  Tom  Dunbar,  an'  you're  nothing  more,"  and  for 
some  time  he  was  highly  indignant  at  this  juvenile  lunacy. 

But  the  two  culprits  pleaded  together,  and,  being  of  one 
mind,  were  too  strong  for  him. 

"I'll  think  about  it,". said  Lucius  at  last  in  his  little 
study,  taking  the  pipe  out  of  his  mouth  and  trying  to  look 
severe.  "  There's  your  examination  first,  Tom,  anyway. 
After  that  maybe  it'll  be  all  right.  It's  a  fine  thing  to  have 


BY  S.  E.  KEIGHTLEY 


THE  LAST  RECRUIT  OF  CLARE'S.  Being  Passages  from  the 
Memoirs  of  Anthony  Dillon,  Chevalier  of  St.  Louis,  and 
Late  Colonel  of  Clare's  Regiment  in  the  Service  of  France. 
Illustrated.  Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  50. 

This  is  a  romance  not  of  love,  but  of  daring  adventure,  and  so  well 
worked  as  to  be  profoundly  interesting. —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

Cleverly  told,  and  enchain  the  reader's  attention  immediately,  holding 
him  captive  to  the  last  page. — Brooklyn  Standard -Union. 

A  series  of  vivid  pictures  of  the  life  of  a  soldier  who  was  also  a  gentle 
man. — y.  Y.  Press. 

THE  CRIMSON  SIGN.  A  Narrative  of  the  Adventures  of  Mr. 
Gcrvase  Orme,  sometime  Lieutenant  in  Mountjoy's  Regi 
ment  of  Foot.  Illustrated.  Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental, 
81  50. 

Recounts  in  an  able  manner  the  terrible  scenes  which  culminated  in 
the  siege  and  relief  of  Londonderry,  giving  his  readers  a  personal  interest 
in  the  characters  he  has  created,  and  many  and  pathetic  are  the  resulting 
pictures.  Mr.  Keightley,  with  a  few  deft  touches  of  his  pen,  brings  them 
home  to  the  reader  with  a  force  that  enables  him  to  realize  what  such 
warfare  really  means.  The  French  soldier  is  a  strange  character,  strik 
ingly  conceived. — Literary  World,  London. 

THE  CAVALIERS.  A  Novel.  Illustrated.  Post  8vo,  Cloth, 
Ornamental,  $1  50. 

Full  of  adventure,  incident,  and  the  wild  spirit  of  the  age,  yet  written 
withal  in  so  true,  simple,  and  vigorous  a  manner  that  it  is  the  people  of 
the  narrative  as  much  as  their  doings  and  escapades  that  interest  the 
reader. —  Chicago  Journal. 

Compels  immediate  and  enduring  interest  on  the  part  of  the  reader. 
From  an  artistic  and  literary  point  of  view,  indeed,  the  book  is  entirely 
noteworthy.  It  has  swing,  verve,  and  genuine  force.  The  interest  is 
cumulative,  and  the  denouement  of  the  story  in  no  wise  disappointing. — 
Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK 

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